The dining hall was a masterclass in deception. Above the mahogany surface, Shen Yu was the picture of a refined young master. He moved with a relaxed, elegant grace, picking up a piece of braised spirit-deer with his chopsticks and placing it onto Mei Yilan's plate.
"Aunt, you must try this. It's excellent for replenishing the vital essence after a long rest," he said, his voice smooth and comforting.
"Thank you, Yu'er. You've become so thoughtful," Mei Yilan replied, her voice soft. She turned to the others. "Lixue, why aren't you eating? You look a bit flushed."
Lixue nearly dropped her spoon as Shen Yu's fingers curled deeper within her beneath the table. "I—it's just the steam from the soup, Mother," she managed to squeak out, her legs trembling so violently she had to grip the edge of her chair.
