Enlightenment in a wondrous art, ascending into its realms, thirty-three heavens-my lord, how mighty you are!

In the secluded woods, paired mandarin ducks flew together, and snores sounded now and then. The night gradually passed. Thick mist rose among the mountains, cool and refreshing, while woodland birds chirped. Ding Longxiang woke groggily, suddenly aware of a headache. Outside the window it was dim, with faint light filtering through the paper. She knew it was between the hours of the Rabbit and the Dragon, when night gave way to dawn.

Hearing gusts of wind from a spear, she glanced into the courtyard. Li Xian, that "chair" of hers, had picked up another long spear and was honing his spearplay outside. His bearing was heroic, his movements expansive, with an effortless, otherworldly grace. He had taken off his mask, letting her glimpse his face now and then. Being tricked and captured by him had utterly disgraced her. Though considerable time had passed, this was only the third time she had watched him wield a spear. Every time, something about it drew her in. "He may be a Flower Thief," she murmured, "but he is remarkably diligent in martial training. Since I met him, I don't think I've ever seen him neglect his practice." She could not help admiring him.

She looked beside her on the bed. Zhao Yingqiong lay straight, breathing evenly, deeply asleep. Ding Longxiang sat up and kept studying her figure: tall and firm, with long legs, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. Though she lacked delicate softness, she possessed a different allure. Ding Longxiang struggled a little, feeling the strange sensations throughout her body. Bound by the Flower Cord, she knew Zhao Yingqiong was sharing what she felt, and could not help blushing.

Recalling the previous night, Ding Longxiang felt no sign that she had been violated. She relaxed somewhat, yet also felt disappointed. She