Yun Ya sat down beside him, pouring tea until his cup was full; the mist from the tea rendered her demure beauty even more ethereal.
"Oh, what makes you say that?"
"She must be sixty years old by now," Yan Song stroked his chin and asked.
Yun Ya thought for a moment, "She should be fifty-seven this year."
Yan Song raised an eyebrow, "Fifty-seven, yet looks like a young wife, tell me, isn't she a demon in disguise?" After saying that and thinking of something, a wickedness flashed across his eyes, "I've heard there was an evil magic in ancient times, 'harvesting yang to replenish yin,' absorbing men's essence to keep a woman's beauty eternal. I reckon your grandmother knows the trick well."
Yun Ya knew Yun Shu very well, who was extremely obsessive in her bones, especially when it came to love; apart from Ji Huaixi, no other man existed in her eyes, and of course, no one was worthy of her body.
