The day's plans began in the morning.
Morning sunlight shone brightly.
Inside a detached villa northeast of the High Tower Institute, steam swirled above a bathing pool.
Hong Yuan leaned against the edge, hot water reaching his chest. Two lovely young noblewomen nestled against his sides, their faces flushed like peach blossoms, their breaths coming in soft pants. Their smooth, pale bodies were limp as soft clay, drained of strength.
Outside the door, Amelia stood with her head lowered, dressed in a blue-and-white maid's dress.
Four years had passed, and this daughter of the Winston Lineage had grown ever more radiant, with elegant features and graceful curves. Her full breasts rose like snowy peaks, now rising and falling, while the faint redness at the tips of her ears betrayed her unsettled emotions.
Ever since Hong Yuan had killed Maguire and Adrian while besieged by six Weavers four years ago, revealing his Spatial String Sorcery, the Federation's upper echelons had regarded him with wariness and sought to win him over.
Whatever schemes the various powers harbored in private, they all wore smiles in public and displayed their friendliness.
Some sent gifts, others sent women-
As a scholar steeped in the teachings of the sages, Hong Yuan had always been considerate of others. He knew that if he refused their "gifts," many among the Federation's upper echelons would lose sleep and appetite.
Thus, although he knew accepting gifts would tarnish his virtue, his benevolent commitment to helping others and sacrificing himself left him no choice but to accept them.
As time passed, however, Hong Yuan reckoned the Federation's upper echelons should have come to understand his character. He therefore gradually sent people away, until only the two most beautiful young women remained.
After all, affection had blossomed with time.
As for Amelia,