"Brother Ye Qi, what are you doing?" Wen Xiao'ai looked at Ye Qi, who was kneeling beside her.
"Brother Ye Qi is here with you." Ye Qi smiled and said.
"You still have wounds."
"It's fine."
"No, hurry up and get up, don't worry about me." Wen Xiao'ai said as she pulled Ye Qi's arm, trying to lift him up.
"Then if you obediently apply the medicine, I'll get up."
"I don't want to." Wen Xiao'ai pouted and was adamant about not giving in.
Thus, in the great hall,
the two of them continued kneeling like this.
Feng Liyan stood to the side, hands behind his back, pacing back and forth.
After kneeling for several hours, their knees were both aching and numb, and their backs were sore to the point of nearly collapsing.
The air, cold and frosty, seemed to pierce straight into their hearts, leaving Wen Xiao'ai cold and hungry.
