It was still in the study, where the storm of passion had just subsided.
All things in the world seemed to have followed Gu Jiangnian's will.
He was holding Jiang Muwan, who lay on his shoulder, his generous palm repeatedly stroking her back, seemingly to comfort and alleviate her rapid breathing.
Both were drenched in a light sweat, Jiang Muwan's long hair disheveled, her hands tightly clutching Gu Jiangnian's clothes.
The beast in gentleman's clothing remained impeccably dressed.
Only she looked like a tattered rag.
Her clothes disheveled, her legs weak, her waist and back aching.
After a while, as her breathing steadied, she reached out and gently tugged at Gu Jiangnian's clothes. The man lifted his chin from the top of her head and looked down at her with a soft grunt, laden with a faint hint of inquiry.
"Carry me down," her words were weak and feeble.
