The curtains surrounding the area were damp and piled on the floor. Petals that should have been floating in the bath were scattered messily atop the curtains, with even more strewn across the ground.
Cracks had formed on the doors and windows, with water still dripping down from above. Occasionally, a few petals would fall from above, making it seem as if a storm had just passed through here.
Beiting Huang squatted on the edge of the bath. With much of the water lost, but the source still flowing, the water level slowly rose, yet it did not cover her chest. Like a sculpture crafted from white jade, the girl curled up in the corner, raising her head and gazing longingly at the man who entered.
It was hard to tell if her face was wet from water or tears. Her long hair, half clinging to her head, fell and dispersed in the water like tender waterweeds spreading softly, floating idly, as if forming a painting.
