Song Sixuan sat down with her mother.
As the daughter of a wealthy family, her every move was graceful.
After sitting down, she faintly sensed a sharp gaze from the side, carrying a certain icy scrutiny.
Song Sixuan felt uncomfortable and, looking up, met Yu Chiyin's profound cold eyes head-on.
Startled, her mind raced—when had he stood there?
No, why was his attitude so prickly? What had she done wrong to displease him so?
"Sixuan, what are you thinking about? Your aunt Yu is talking to you," Mrs. Song noticed her daughter's distraction and gently nudged her.
Song Sixuan came back to her senses and smiled apologetically at Madam Yu.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Yu, what did you just say?"
Madam Yu spoke in a gentle tone: "It's okay, I just wanted you to try this rose pastry, see if it suits your taste."
Upon hearing this, Song Sixuan gracefully reached for a piece of the rose pastry, took a small bite, and found it soft and melting in her mouth.
