Old Lady Lin didn't even flinch. Standing by the side table with her work-worn arms crossed tightly over her chest, the old woman looked at Heena's dramatic, wobbling performance and let out a dry, knowing scoff, a sharp smile curving her wrinkled lips.
"Save your breath, Ren," Old Lady Lin said coolly, her sharp eyes locking straight onto Heena's fluttering eyelashes. "I spent two hours scrubbing and wrapping that back myself—I know down to the exact inch what is under those bandages. It is just some bruised muscle tissue and split skin, not her whole body cut into pieces! With the amount of poppy root and stasis herb I poured down her throat today, an ox could step on her foot and she wouldn't feel a thing. If she wants to throw herself onto the floor to put on an opera for us, let her hit the tiles!"
