In the first floor of Miss Donggong's boudoir, twilight thickened as the dim evening deepened. Min Ning rummaged in a cabinet and took out a candle, lighting it with a fire striker. The candlelight cast shadows over her spirited yet troubled brows.
She raised her head and looked at the staircase leading to the second floor. Even she hadn't realized the longsuffering depths present in her gaze.
This Yuchun Balm—she had originally kept it for her own use.
Back then, her plan had been so clear. Take advantage of that scoundrel's carelessness and simply apply the medicine.
But how did she end up… how did she…
The thought lodged in her chest, stifling her with discomfort.
She knew perfectly well that scoundrel was a lustful wretch, and even more clearly, she knew that lady Prince surpassed her in every way.
But still, she had inexplicably fetched the wrong bottle…
Wasn't this akin to delivering provisions to the enemy forces?
