When Jiang Yue stepped into the room, the late afternoon light slanted in through the half-drawn curtains, casting warm golden hues across the old wooden floor. The air smelled faintly of medicine and lavender.
Old Madam Luo was already awake, propped up by a small fortress of pillows against the headboard. Despite the fine lines etched deep into her face and the blanket draped over her frail frame, there was nothing weak about her presence. Her eyes were as sharp and clear as ever, glinting with familiar cunning and warmth the moment they landed on Jiang Yue.
"There you are," she said, voice roughened by age but unmistakably amused. "Took you long enough."
Jiang Yue stepped inside with a measured grace, her gait steady and unhurried, like she carried all the time in the world. Her expression was composed, though a hint of tension lingered at the corners of her mouth.
"Old Madam," she greeted, bowing her head slightly.
