A warm feeling welled up in Jiang Huaiyu's heart, and she said sincerely, "Thank you."
Ling Mo shook his head slightly, "I wasn't much of a help either. By the time I got here, you had already left."
"Even so, we still want to thank you. At least we no longer have to get wet in the rain, and we can still feel the care of others during this difficult time."
Ling Mo suddenly asked, "But I'm curious, how can you still laugh in such a disheveled moment?"
When he arrived, he happened to see Jiang Huaiyu and two others walking out of the inn.
Having just survived a life-or-death ordeal, and now standing in the night rain, looking utterly disheveled, he saw her smile.
He couldn't help but feel confused, even somewhat surprised. After all, how could she still laugh out loud amidst her shock? Jiang Huaiyu sighed softly, "To escape death is perhaps a kind of luck."
She had never anticipated such a turn of events in the dead of night. Yuwei's words from that morning had become a reality as night fell. Had she known this would happen, she might have gone to the temple to burn incense and pray for peace.
Fortunately, this crisis ultimately ended without serious consequences.
The drizzle continued to fall without any sign of stopping.
Ling Mo carried a lantern in his hand. In the night rain, the flickering flame seemed as if it could be blown out by the wind at any moment, like a life hanging by a thread.
He carefully shielded the lantern with his sleeve, and only with the help of the dim light was he able to examine Jiang Huaiyu closely.
The rain had washed away the dust from her face, making her skin appear even paler, which evoked feelings of pity in one's heart.
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