The bright moon startles the magpie from the branch, the cool breeze calls to the cicadas at midnight.
The night, draped in gauze, like a mist...
Lightly enveloped the earth.
Carved rails and painted eaves, rock gardens standing tall...
The gorgeous night scene, the vast bamboo forests, coupled with the faint scent of sandalwood, all so serene.
As if it were an elegant, aesthetically pleasing ink wash painting.
And Hua Lianyue was like a person who stepped out of that ink wash painting.
Her figure was frail and slender, her face bore the sorrows of dimples, and her body the illness of beauty.
Like duckweed in the wind, she floated and fluttered, seeming as though she would crumble into the mud at any moment.
The pair of peach blossom eyes brimming with sorrow shimmered slightly, revealing such melancholy.
One could entirely forget that she was the Pavilion Master of Chunqing Pavilion, infamous and dread-inducing as the fourth disciple of the Demon Lord.
