Sun Ningxiang carried the tea tray, her fingertips trembling slightly. Her heart pounded like a frightened deer.
In her entire life, this was the first time a man had so solemnly sworn to protect her completely.
The heat on her cheeks was scorching, and even her neck was flushed a faint pink.
But she had always been outwardly soft yet inwardly firm. She quickly composed herself, suppressed the turmoil in her heart, and, with a blush on her face, walked to the desk. She gently placed the two cups of hot tea on the table in front of Sun Yong and Yang Jing, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz, "Father, Junior Brother, please have some tea."
After speaking, she didn't dare to glance at Yang Jing again, not even daring to lift her head. She spoke her line hurriedly, then picked up the empty tray and quickly retreated from the study, her movements hasty even as she closed the door.
