Mrs. Dong saw that her already frail and thin daughter had become even thinner. Her chin was sharper, her facial features more pronounced, and her usually fair face was now utterly colorless, as white as silk fabric.
Mrs. Dong's tears fell in droplets.
"Don't move! The sedan chair hasn't arrived yet, so lie down for now. Where are you hurt? Is it serious?" Mrs. Dong grasped Bai Qingyan's hand tightly. Her daughter's small hand was ice-cold, which felt like a knife cutting into her heart. She covered her daughter's hands with her own and held them close to her chest, choking back her sobs. "What happened? How did you get so badly hurt?"
"Mother..." Bai Qingyan clasped Mrs. Dong's hand in return, and in a low voice, said, "This is an act for others to see. Mother, do not worry. Mother should understand, during the Wude Gate uprising... your daughter was too conspicuous in quelling the chaos. Without this ruse, I couldn't have safely returned home."
