of a scar might do you good,” she said, more honestly than she had meant to. Jinshi was too beautiful; he could only put those who saw him out of sorts. And those around him focused too much on his looks. Even though he wasn’t as flowery and delicate as he appeared, Maomao thought; he was made of sterner stuff. In her opinion, only a small handful of people around him understood that.
“Don’t you think it makes you look more manly than before?” she said. She noticed his lips tighten when she said that. He looked around uneasily, blinked, and shook his head.
“What’s the matter, sir?”
Jinshi scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “Considering the circumstances, I thought maybe I’d simply grin and bear it...”
“No need to bear anything. If you’re tired, hurry up and—”
—and get out of here and rest, she had been about to say. But it seemed sleepiness was not what Jinshi was trying to endure. He pulled on her wrist again, and when she sat down facing him, he grabbed the upper part of her other arm.
“When I looked at your injury, I meant to act as calm as I could,” he said. His unsettling face got closer and closer to hers; she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. “I’m surprised... I mean, I think I seemed calmer than I expected.”
“Huh?”
At that moment, she remembered: they’d been in a situation much like this one before, hadn’t they? And hadn’t it been really rather compromising? Her back was pressed to one of the carriage’s support posts; she had nowhere to run.
“Master Jinshi, hadn’t you better get some sleep?”
“I’m still all right.”