With a bang, Xia Qingqian's body trembled slightly, involuntarily shivering intensely. She dared not lift her head, only lowered her gaze to watch her toes, waiting for his next rebuke.
But after waiting for a long time, she saw no movement from him. She only heard his increasingly rapid breathing. She suddenly lifted her gaze, looking at him. The tightly furrowed brows deepened, and even her breathing paused for a few seconds.
"...Young Master." She softly whispered, stepping forward to grasp his hand without regard for propriety, helping him to sit down. "Are you feeling uncomfortable somewhere?"
Beitang Yao did not resist, and under her assistance, he sat down in the chair. She reached out to soothe his breath, calming him with each gentle motion.
After a moment, Beitang Yao slowly opened his eyes, his complexion unusually pale, almost transparent, his handsome face taut, and his thin lips pressed into a straight line.
