The wind howled, and the autumn rain came down hard.
Raindrops as large as beans pelted the roof tiles with a crackle, streaming down the eaves and instantly forming rivulets that washed away the bloodstains on the bluestone slabs.
The scent of blood in the night was washed clean just like that.
In a side room in the inn's rear courtyard.
The oil lamp burned dimly, its wick occasionally sputtering with a tiny blossom of flame. The gauze bed curtains hung half-open, trailing to the floor and swaying gently in the wind slipping through the cracks in the window.
The succubus lay on the bed, her head resting on an embroidered pillow, her eyes closed as she pondered her thoughts.
She felt somewhat astonished.
Somewhat? No—utterly astonished.
The bed was soft, padded with several layers of cotton quilts. Lying on it felt like sinking into a pile of clouds. The pillow was neither too high nor too low, perfectly supporting her neck. It was filled with premium buckwheat husks and carried a faint scent of grass and leaves.
A woman sat by the bed.
The woman wore only a sheer gauze robe. Her long hair spilled loose over her shoulders, and every glance and smile of hers brimmed with seductive charm.
She held a celadon wine cup to the succubus's lips, carefully feeding her wine.
The woman before her was none other than Hu Yulou's woman... Bao Xiaoqin.
The succubus thought that if Young Master Yan Hui saw her like this right now, would he be furious enough to go mad?
He might even cough up blood on the spot.
As she thought of it, a faint smile rose on her lips. It held thirty percent mockery, thirty percent helplessness, and forty percent bitterness too difficult to put into words.