Xiao Yu forcibly resisted the urge to massage her forehead; she should have known better than to ask this young master to do the dishes, knowing he'd surely make a mess out of it. Sure enough, both of the bowls ended up broken, so now there's nothing left to wash.
She reached out and took his wrist, pulling him aside to check his hand, asking with concern, "Are you okay? No injuries?"
The warmth from her grip traveled through his wrist. Gong Ting looked down, meeting her eyes full of concern, feeling his heart wavering. He shook his head, "No, I'm fine."
Xiao Yu released his hand, "Wash your hands, I'll clean up here."
The warmth at his wrist dissipated, and Gong Ting felt a faint sense of loss in his heart. He washed his hands under the faucet and watched as she carefully cleaned up the broken porcelain shards with a trash can in hand.
