Brushing Hair

No more, no less, just one tear. Fan Xian watched this and couldn't resist shaking his head, but he couldn't say anything. He felt around beside him for a while and found a ribbon from among the clothes. Moving to the little Emperor's side, he gently dabbed at it.

The little Emperor recovered her calm at an astonishing speed. Her naked shoulders slid easily into the plain white robes. Her black hair laid against her shoulders. Her expression was calm. There was no more charm. Matched with her indifferent eyes, she gave off a sense of age unique to Shangjing.

She looked calmly at Fan Xian until he felt uncomfortable. She then warmly said, "Help me brush my hair."

After saying these words, she turned and presented her smooth neck, thin back, and black hair to Fan Xian's eyes. Finding a Cang Mountain wooden comb from somewhere, she handed it to Fan Xian.