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... hrough Yan Zheyun’s mind. But he didn’t utter them aloud. Not that anyone would understand him anyway.
He still had a tight grip on Xiqing’s arm but she was struggling intently against him, nearly in hysterics.
"Steward Yang," she cried, crawling forward on her knees to try and seize the hem of his robes. "Was it Xile?! Where is she now?! Please, let me see her!"
Steward Yang harrumphed coldly and pulled away from her frantic grasping. "You’re that useless maid’s sister? ...
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