The silver-white fuselage cut through the stratosphere at thirty thousand feet.
Outside the porthole, the Eurasian continent slept in heavy silence.
Moonlight spread over the clouds, glowing silver-gray, like a boundless sea.
In the deepest part of the cabin, this small bedroom seemed cut off from the entire world.
Ouyang Xuanyue was pinned by Tang Song against the edge of the vanity.
Her back pressed against the cold mirror, while before her was his scorching chest.
The clash of cold and heat made her tremble all over.
That expensive silk nightgown hung loosely on her body.
Her snow-white, full skin gleamed temptingly in the dim light, rising and falling sharply with her rapid breathing.
Not far away, on the large bed, the drunken Xu Qing slept very restlessly, hugging the quilt as she mumbled in her dreams, turning over from time to time. Every movement made Ouyang Xuanyue's whole body tighten.
She bit her lower lip, fine beads of sweat seeping out across her forehead.
That face, always elegant and noble, forever maintaining the proper measure of composure, was now utterly undone.
Dignity had been crushed, restraint swept away, leaving only a coquettish charm woven from desire, indulgence, and shame.
It was a side of her Tang Song had never seen before.
Combined with her fully mature figure and her status as a widow, it created a deadly contrast.
It made an unprecedented urge to destroy surge in the depths of his heart.
He leaned close to her ear, his breath wrapped in the scent of alcohol, and murmured that line of verse: "When the clouds part and the moon over the sea shines bright, let the spring tide soak the peony red." "This Yu Meiren you wrote, especially the final line, is quite beautiful. Just like you at this