Lin Ruin stared at the dark, steaming liquid in the bowl and made a face of pure disgust. "It still smells like dirt," he muttered. He looked at Lian Zhi, waiting for her to pick up the spoon and feed him as she had done the day before.
Lian Zhi didn't move. She sat on the edge of the chair, her arms folded firmly across her chest. "I am not feeding you anymore. You have enough strength to hold a spoon, Your Majesty."
"I'm the Khan. I shouldn't be forced to drink mud."
"You are a patient who fell off a cliff," Lian Zhi countered, glaring at him. "And if you don't drink this 'mud,' you won't be able to leave this bed. Now, stop being a child."
Lin Rui let out a dramatic sigh, realized he wasn't going to win this time, and picked up the bowl himself. He took a spoonful and immediately shivered. "Why is it so bitter?"
