Deep within Tian Yuan Holy Palace, in Mo Lin's bedchamber.
The night had grown deep. Moonlight streamed through the carved window lattice, spilling a clear radiance across the floor. A languid, intimate atmosphere filled the hall, mingled with a faint, secluded fragrance.
On the broad cloud bed, Su Youwei had long since
been overwhelmed by their lovemaking. Her hair was disheveled, her delicate body curled beneath the brocade covers as she slept deeply. Her stunningly beautiful face still bore traces of flushed warmth and satisfied exhaustion, her breathing even and unhurried. She had clearly fallen into a deep sleep.
By the bedside, Wu Yao wore only a crimson-purple silk robe as thin as cicada wings. It was loosely fastened, yet could not conceal the exquisite, breathtaking curves beneath. She was about to rise silently and return to her own bedchamber.
Though they had long been husband and wife in all but name, the pride and aloofness ingrained in Wu Yao made her unaccustomed to spending the entire night entwined like this—especially... together with Su Youwei.
However, just as her toes touched the cool floor, a warm hand gently closed around her slender wrist.
"The night is deep and the dew is heavy. Where are you going?" Mo Lin's lazy voice came from behind her, slightly husky from sleep yet perfectly clear.
Wu Yao paused, not turning around. Her cool voice rang especially clearly in the quiet night. "It is late. I should return."
"Return?" Mo Lin chuckled softly. With a slight tug of his hand, Wu Yao was helplessly pulled back to the bedside and fell into his embrace.
That thin robe slipped from her shoulder, revealing a vast expanse of snowy, delicate skin and astonishingly graceful collarbones.
"Youwei is already exhausted enough to be sound asleep, yet Yao'er still