Yelu Yan had finished washing, and he came to the inner room and looked intently at Li Xianyun under the lamplight.
She was bending her head, hooking iron wire with a golden hook, her hair lightly coiled, serene yet delicate.
The warm, goose-yellow light seemed to be subdued by her beauty, gently circling around her, making her tranquil beauty seem like a painting.
Her beauty stunned Yelu Yan, and wicked thoughts began to slowly rise and proliferate.
Things that are too beautiful always make one want to possess them fiercely.
Yelu Yan walked over.
Li Xianyun was always serious when engaged in her tasks, often losing herself to the extent that she did not notice someone enveloping her from behind with his broad, solid embrace until that moment.
Yelu Yan leaned in and pressed his cheek against Li Xianyun's warm little face, "Xianxian, I've finished washing, now it's your turn."
