The night unfolded in quiet, rhythmic cycles of care, much like the one before, yet deeper in its tenderness. Su Wanyan moved through the hours like a silent guardian, her body sustained by the effects of the Perfect Foundation Potion she had consumed.
The potion's enhancements kept exhaustion at bay, but even then, a soft weariness settled into her bones. Still, she never once complained. A small, genuine smile often lingered on her lips as she tended to both mother and child, her actions filled with quiet devotion.
Whenever little Mo Yan whimpered for milk in the dead of night, Su Wanyan would stir immediately, rising from her bed with careful movements to avoid disturbing the peaceful nest. She prepared the bottle with practiced ease, warming it to the perfect temperature before cradling the baby close and feeding her.
