As he entered, Shen Qing saw a burly figure and instinctively paused his steps, lowering his head respectfully and calling out, "Uncle."
The light in the room was dim, with only a few weak beams of sunlight streaming in through the half-open window, casting mottled reflections on the rough wooden furniture.
His aunt Shen Xiu, who had miscarried more than ten days ago, lay on the bed. Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes devoid of spirit, and her body appeared exceptionally frail.
The Hall Master of Linfeng Hall, Li Linfeng, sat by the bedside. He nodded in acknowledgment when he heard Shen Qing's greeting but said nothing more.
A stifling and indescribable tension filled the air.
The room was so quiet that only the weak breathing of Aunt Shen Xiu could be heard.
Li Linfeng instructed the maid, Dongxue, "The water in the copper basin has cooled. Go and get a warmer batch."
"Yes, Master."