A week had quietly slipped by.
Inside the small, serene pavilion beside the Sacred Pond, everything remained peaceful and soft. The crisp morning sunlight filtered through the carved wooden windows, painting soft golden patterns across the polished floor.
Su Qinglan sat quietly before a hazy bronze mirror. The surface wasn't perfectly clear, but it reflected enough for her to see the young woman staring back at her.
Her waist-length hair flowed over her shoulders like rich, glossy silk. Her skin seemed even fairer than before, carrying a radiant, healthy glow that practically made her bloom.
Looking at her own reflection, Su Qinglan couldn't help blushing furiously.
"...Has it already been an entire week?" she softly muttered to herself, her voice a whisper.
It felt completely unreal. Ever since entering this little secluded pavilion... neither she nor An Mo had stepped outside even once.
