Can we talk without the knife?

The next morning, Xia Yuqing sat at the breakfast table as the maids placed dish after dish before her. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm dim sum filled the air, but her mind was elsewhere.

Old habits were hard to break. In her past life, she had always woken up before the sun. Her body was trained in that manner. Even now, she found herself opening her eyes at five in the morning, her muscles tense, waiting for orders that would never come.

But this was her new life. And if she truly wanted to change, she needed to start with the small things. So, for the first time in years, she forced herself to sleep two more hours, though it felt more like self-inflicted torture.

After finally getting up, she went through her morning routine and did some light exercises in her room. Her body itched for a proper morning run in the estate garden, but one glance at her injured leg reminded her to stay put.