Ling Xuan did not say anything at first. She stood there quietly, looking at the saffron that had just bloomed in front of her. The purple petals were fresh and open, the red threads bright and delicate.
Then her eyes moved to Laurel.
Laurel was still standing straight, but there was something off. Her shoulders were slightly tense, and her face looked a little pale. She was pretending nothing happened, but it was obvious she wasn't okay.
"You look like you're about to pass out," Ling Xuan said calmly.
Laurel immediately straightened a bit more, almost out of instinct. "I'm fine."
Ling Xuan's gaze dropped briefly to Laurel's hand, which was still resting near her chest like she was steadying her breathing. She did not point it out, but her gaze moved up to Laurel's face.
