That evening, Jiang Xuanran returned here. Celicia didn't come here, but stayed at her own residence.
As soon as she entered, Jiang Xuanran glanced at Lu Yuan, then asked, "A Yuan, where's Shamirra?"
"In bed."
Lu Yuan pointed to the bedroom door on the second floor and answered truthfully.
"In bed?"
At that, Jiang Xuanran narrowed her eyes.
She hurried upstairs and opened the bedroom door.
Following Jiang Xuanran's gaze, she saw Shamirra lying on the bed. Her eyes were open, but her vacant stare rested on the ceiling, unfocused and devoid of emotion.
She wasn't sad. She'd simply reached her limit, and after being unable to take any more, had gone completely blank.
Like a flower crushed beneath a violent storm.
She gazed quietly at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused, lips slightly parted, her breathing faint. Her whole body radiated the languor and daze of someone who had been utterly filled and utterly conquered.
She didn't have the strength to speak or think, or even to turn her head and look at Jiang Xuanran, who had already come inside.
Shamirra looked exactly as Jiang Xuanran had expected.
Then Jiang Xuanran went back downstairs and returned to the first floor.
Lu Yuan wasn't cultivating just then. In a rare sight, he was sitting on the sofa watching TV.
Jiang Xuanran didn't disturb the scene. Instead, she went into the cultivation room and began practicing with her spear.
Late that night, in the bedroom.
On the bed.
Lu Yuan told Jiang Xuanran that he was going away.
"You're leaving again? Be careful, okay?"
Jiang Xuanran urged him gently.
"Mm."
Lu Yuan nodded and softly stroked Jiang Xuanran's silver-white hair.
Jiang Xuanran nestled in his arms.
As for Shamirra? She had long since entered the golden mark on Lu Yuan's forehead.