It was loneliness.
Gradually, no matter what kind of stimulation she sought, it could not fill that loneliness. No matter how many years she cultivated, it could not wear it away.
Even later, when Hu Yulou became her man, he still could not dispel it... Hu Yulou did not treat her badly. He was generous with his spending, considerate in his words, and gentle and attentive in bed as well.
Yet the more he was like that, the more desolate she felt. Everything he gave was just right, like a tailored garment. It fit perfectly, but in the end, it was not skin.
Loneliness was like a needle buried deep in her heart. She could not usually feel it, but whenever night deepened and all grew quiet, it would ache faintly.
And then, a Heavenly Book had disrupted the peace of her former days.
As though a boulder had been cast into a placid lake...
With a soft sigh, she took out a square of snow-white spirit silkworm silk and slowly washed her body.
The silk cloth brushing against her skin brought an indescribable pleasure.
But her gaze gradually grew unfocused... How she wished this were a man's hand.
The hand of a man she liked.
No matter how soft spirit silkworm silk was, it could not compare to a lover's hand.
Nothing in the world could ever replace a lover's hand... the warmth of the palm, the thin calluses on the fingertips, the faint tremble when they touched.
And that force—careful, yet concealing desire—that only she could perceive...
She stared blankly at her smooth, crystalline, nearly flawless body, and an indescribable melancholy suddenly rose in her heart.
Amid the mist of steam, her face was so beautiful it seemed almost unreal.
Her brows were like distant mountains brushed with