Hairpin Tapping Pillow rang round as jade.
The soul-stealing cries gradually faded. One night passed.
Morning sunlight streamed through the window and spilled into the room.
On the bed, Feng Wutong's fragrant shoulder lay bare outside the quilt, draped in a sacred golden glow by the sunlight. Her peaceful sleeping face was filled with happiness and satisfaction.
The cat-ear hair ornament she had worn while pretending to be Zhu Zhuqing had long since been knocked askew in last night's battle. Only that wooden Hairpin Tapping Pillow remained, stuck at an angle in her beautiful hair.
As if he found the sunlight a little dazzling, Dai Yao frowned. His eyes carefully opened a crack, and only after he had adjusted to the glare did he open them fully.
He glanced over the wooden house he had not seen in half a year, then looked at the beautiful woman beside him, his feelings rather complicated.
He had never planned to take Feng Wutong so soon, because doing so made it seem as if he were demanding repayment for a favor, the behavior of a petty man. If one day it naturally happened when the time was right, he would have gladly accepted it.
But he had not expected Feng Wutong to take the initiative, seizing the moment when he was being battered by Killing Intent and could barely control himself, taking him down directly.
Still, he was not the kind of hypocrite who would act as if what happened last night had merely been a mistake. After taking Red Lotus, Feng Wutong had become a nation-toppling beauty, and she was wholly devoted to him. He also wanted to possess Feng Wutong completely.
He looked tenderly at the Fiery Figure lying beside him and smoothed the hair by her temples. He had not