The room was once again enveloped in silence, though this time it wasn't as heavy as before. Xia Fang unconsciously pursed her lips as her gaze grew distant. With a thoughtful look on her face, her fingers moved as if she were counting while she inaudibly mumbled something.
As for what that something was, Yang Qing felt it was safe to assume it had to do with the conversations she'd had with her grandfather, and likely with what he would have wanted her life to be if she hadn't grown up in the environment she was raised in.
For her sake, Yang Qing hoped that list was a long one. Xia Fang desperately needed it. Her qi wasn't erratic, and she hadn't tried to take her life immediately, but that didn't change the fact that she was still standing at the edge of a precarious cliff.
