At first glance, Su Muyao appeared perfectly normal.
Her long blonde hair was neatly arranged, and her robes were perfectly in place, though her lotus tips remained slightly swollen, a lingering reminder of Lin Feng's earlier attention on her prodigious bosom.
Despite this, her face retained its usual beauty and dignified composure.
But upon closer inspection, there were more small telling details that did not escape Li Zhiyan's notice.
Su Muyao's cheeks held a faint lingering flush. Her gaze was slightly softer than usual.
And most telling of all, the way she walked seemed subtly strained.
Each step was deliberate.
Careful.
Almost as if she were suppressing discomfort.
"Why is Lady Su walking in such an awkward way?" Li Zhiyan wondered silently, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
It was not an injury. There were no signs of battle, no disturbance in her aura.
Yet something about her posture suggested fatigue, perhaps even soreness.
Three and a half hours.
