Seeing that her cousin was silent, Yu Youyao gritted her teeth and made up her mind. She placed the sachet in her cousin's hand. "I'd originally planned to hone my needlework skills before making the sachet for you, but it wouldn't have been good to keep you waiting."
For a moment, Zhou Linghuai did not say anything. He stared at the sachet in his hand, but his mind was actually picturing this pampered and delicate little girl—who had never had to suffer before—holding a thin needle and threading it, but constantly poking her own fingertips because of her clumsiness. It was so painful that her eyes welled up with tears and she sobbed, shouting that she no longer wanted to learn, but still ended up gritting her teeth through it and finishing the embroidery carefully.
All of a sudden, the light sachet in his hand felt so heavy that he almost couldn't breathe.
This gift was indeed much too heavy for him.
