Qingran nodded briefly, too exhausted to say more. She stepped into the elevator again, pressing the button for the 40th floor with a heavy hand.
The elevator hummed as it rose.
Her reflection in the mirrored walls looked terrible, her face pale, the bandages spotted faintly with blood, dark circles smudged under her eyes.
She didn't care. She just needed a few hours to patch herself together.
When the doors slid open, the familiar scent of cooking spices drifted faintly down the hall.
Bai Shiyue was sitting near the open suite door, peeling potatoes with gently, beside her were bowls of diced onions and garlic.
Her belly was beginning to show under her loose shirt, the signs of her pregnancy unmistakable.
Qingran's face softened a little.
"Shiyue." she greeted, her voice rough with weariness. "How's the belly?"
Bai Shiyue looked up and gave a tired but genuine smile. "Still attached to me. The kid's stubborn must take after me."
