Qin Mujin was pulled along by Qin Yu, her lips twitching, "Brother, aren't you shameless? I'm here to see the list, but you're helping a young girl instead?"
Qin Yu beamed, "The young girl is pitifully touching, more moving than the mists of Jiangnan. If I don't help her, I'm afraid she'll cry."
"You're strangers, what does it matter to you if she cries!" Qin Mujin rolled her eyes at her brother.
Qin Yu snorted with a laugh. If it were a woman like Qin Mujin seeking his help, he surely wouldn't bother. Yet from a young age, he had always preferred gentle and pitiable women, just like his mother, the Imperial Consort Rong.
A pitiful woman has a unique, moving charm that stirs his emotions.
Seeing Zhuo Wenyuan, he naturally wanted to lend a hand.
A young girl's tears are far too precious; he couldn't bear to see her cry.
