With these thoughts, Gong Yajun tightened her jade legs and pulled at the hemp ropes bound around her, until red welts appeared on her snow-white skin.
Only then did she soar away towards the courtyard of the demon sect.
...
The gentle breeze blew softly, causing ripples on the surface of Mirror Lake.
Above the painted pleasure boat.
The red lanterns swayed gently in the wind.
Creak!
Accompanied by the sound of a door opening.
Hua Lianyue stepped out from the room.
Tonight, in order to seduce her master, she did not don the thick fox-fur quilt.
In her frail and sickly state, she wore a light, moon-white gown, the hem fluttering, scattering light at her feet like moonbeams.
And it cinched tight at her willowy waist.
Her peach blossom eyes seemed pleased yet not, her furrowed brows seemed knit yet not.
Looking pitiful, like a fragile willow in the wind.
She coughed lightly twice, staining her snowy-white handkerchief with bright red blood.
