This damn floor was hard as an iron plate; her waist was practically breaking.
Worse still, Su Li was right beside her. His scorching body heat seeped through their thin clothes, making her heart tremble.
Forty years of memories from her past life came surging back.
Those nights on the iron birch bed, those dawns in the basement when she'd been tormented until even her bones seemed to come apart.
This eighteen-year-old body had never experienced any of that—well, not enough of it—but her mind was filled with the memories of an old hand.
Elena irritably turned over.
With that turn, her face ended up directly facing Su Li's profile.
Moonlight leaked in through the gap in the window and fell across Su Li's face.
He was far too handsome.
The nourishment of his Sword Spirit Root had made his skin as white as jade. His jawline was sharply defined, and his lashes were long and thick.
Elena stared at him for quite a while.
Bastard.
He'd vanished for fifty years in her past life, leaving her alone to guard that empty manor.
Now that she'd finally found him in this life, she still had to squeeze onto the floor with some village girl.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
But as her anger simmered, her body started misbehaving.
First, she draped one leg over Su Li's.
Su Li didn't react. He slept like a dead pig.
Elena lay sprawled across Su Li's chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
This position was comfortable.
Warm skin, firm muscles, and that distinctly masculine scent.
More comfortable than all those forty years on the iron birch bed.
Elena's breathing gradually slowed.
She had never again felt this kind of steady reassurance, of being held