Years of living as an orphan had made Yin Xilin's heart mature beyond her years; she understood the logic of mutual benefit. These people before her had no ties to her, and she couldn't convince herself to leave with them, surrendering to their will. The Zhao Family was detestable, but their lives were firmly within her grasp. However, these people before her were different—Yin Xilin still couldn't find a reason to willingly follow them.
As if anticipating Yin Xilin's answer, An Yiqing didn't seem disappointed. She nodded and reached out to gently pat Yin Xilin's frail shoulder.
"I'll be staying at Dawang Mountain for the next few days. If you change your mind, feel free to come find me."
Yin Xilin nodded, then turned and left.
"Miss, are you planning…?" Watching Yin Xilin's figure recede into a mere black dot, An Zhifeng couldn't help but ask.
"This girl has a natural sensitivity to poison and a decent character—she has the makings of a healer."
