Hua Yan was a novice, and the act had not lasted long, yet it happened twice more. Her constitution was frail to begin with; naturally, she couldn't bear it.
As Yun Chi watched her fall into a deep sleep almost instantly, his heart was filled with both guilt and tenderness. He thought to himself how the self-restraint he had honed for twenty years since childhood had, in her presence, dissipated like clouds, fruitlessly scattered by the wind.
Suddenly, he found himself at a loss, heaving a sigh as he held his forehead before getting up to take a cloth. After cleaning himself and dressing properly, he used the cloth to gently wipe down Hua Yan.
Marks riddled Hua Yan's body, scarcely an inch left untouched, all branded with the imprint of plum blossoms by him. He watched with a mixture of satisfaction and heartache, particularly at one area that was rather swollen and disheveled, cursing himself while he tended to it.
