When Lin Mo returned to the mountain stronghold, dusk had already fallen.
The setting sun looked like blood, dyeing the roof tiles of Black Wind Stronghold in a layer of golden red.
Kitchen smoke curled upward in the stronghold, and the air drifted with the aroma of food and a faint scent of powder and rouge.
The moment he stepped into the North Courtyard, he heard the chirping of orioles coming from the reception hall.
"Young Sister's zither skill is getting quite refined." It was Liu Ruyan's languid and charming voice:
"It's just that this Nishang Yuyi Qu places the utmost importance on subtle and winding artistic conception.
Young Sister played a bit too hastily, making it seem almost like... you were in eager haste to see your lover."
Su Wanqing's voice carried a hint of displeasure:
"Elder Sister jests.
I merely played according to the score, whereas Elder Sister's tea ceremony—
the water should be lifted off the heat after three rolling boils, yet this is already Elder Sister's fifth boil, so the tea flavor is likely to turn astringent."
"Oh, look at my memory." Liu Ruyan chuckled lightly. "I was so busy listening to Young Sister play the zither that I lost track of the time. But a bit of astringency in the tea isn't bad either; it clears the mind."
Lin Mo paused in the corridor, shook his head, and laughed in spite of himself.
These women, when engaging in covert struggles, were truly three parts more exciting than slaughter on the battlefield.
He straightened his lapels and stepped into the hall.
Candles had just been lit inside the hall, and eight women, sitting or standing, looked precisely like a vibrant and alluring painting of court beauties.
Liu Ruyan wore a rouge-red, embroidered-golden-butterfly ruqun, her plump breasts