Second Miss Yan almost couldn’t hold on to her proper smile, and Xin Yun very nearly shredded the fabric clutched in her hands.
If her throat hadn’t gone so dry she couldn’t force out a sound, she might have blurted something completely undignified… like agreeing to it on the spot.
Once a little clarity crept back in, another thought followed.
Right now, in A-Yin’s eyes, this identity of hers was nothing more than a stranger she’d met twice. Even if, at the root, that “stranger” was still herself… did that mean that as long as someone was nice to...
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