Moonlight like water, seeped through the gauze windows, scattering into the abbess's palace.
It shone upon Fang Yang's jade carving.
She adjusted her clothes, her gaze melancholic and blurred as she looked at the Buddha statue before her, a surge of guilt welled up.
She had, after all, bestowed her affections on the wrong recipient!
But...
The long night stretched on, her only companion the jade carving.
What else could she do?
And yet...
Though the jade carving was the Demon Lord, it was far too cold, nothing like a fraction of the real Demon Lord's warmth.
"Demon Lord..."
She murmured to herself, her cheeks as ripe as cherries, inviting one to pluck them at will.
Her gaze was yearning yet desolate.
Only after a long while did she take out a piece of jade from her bosom.
It was a communication jade.
When she had just returned to Mirror Moon Convent, she had disdained making contact with that man, but as the night fell...
