The three of them clung tightly to one another, reaching the clouds together in the height of their bliss.
After a long while, the storm finally subsided.
The hall was a complete mess.
Li Qingluo and Wang Yuyan, mother and daughter, lay limp across the table, their bodies like puddles of mud, without even the strength to move a finger.
The Die Was Cast
Mantuo Mountain Villa, morning.
Sunlight streamed through the window lattice and spilled across the broad bed.
Li Qingluo let out a soft groan and slowly opened her eyes.
The lingering effects of her drunkenness left her head somewhat groggy, but the aching weakness and profound satisfaction of having been thoroughly ravaged made what had happened last night even clearer.
She turned her head and looked beside her.
There, her daughter Wang Yuyan was curled beneath the brocade quilt, sleeping soundly.
A blush still lingered on the young woman's exquisitely lovely face, and there was even a dried tear at the corner of her eye. Her snow-white, fragrant shoulder, exposed beyond the quilt, was covered in mottled purple kiss marks—a shocking sight.
"Boom!"
Fireworks exploded in Li Qingluo's mind. The absurd, frenzied, even utterly scandalous scenes from last night flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern.
She remembered how, under that man's teasing, she had completely cast aside the dignity of being a mother and pleasured him like a shameless harlot before her daughter.
She remembered how Lin Xuan had arranged mother and daughter together, riding one of them one moment before thrusting into the other the next.
She even remembered how, at their most frenzied, she and her daughter had held that man from either side, crying out those mortifyingly lewd words as they climbed together to the peak of ecstasy.
"Heavens... what have I