Because Chuzheng agreed, Ming Xian was allowed to enter and leave the room later.
He glanced at the corridor, not knowing what he was thinking, standing there for a good while before walking to Chuzheng's room and knocking on the door.
"Come in."
The door was not closed, Ming Xian pushed it open.
Ming Xian scanned the room, Chuzheng was lying in the creaking rocking chair, with thin wisps of steam rising from the tea beside her, blurring her facial features and brows.
Ming Xian turned around and closed the door.
He stood quietly for a moment, then turned around resolutely, walked to the side of the rocking chair, lowered his eyes, and met Chuzheng's gaze.
Chuzheng got up and stood face to face with Ming Xian, the rocking chair creaked a few times, gradually settling into peace.
Ming Xian put down his sword, his fingertips trembled slightly, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to remove his mask, placing it beside the sword.
"Am I very ugly?"
