Bibi Dong also realized how inappropriate her behavior had been. She lowered her head and sat completely motionless, as though deep in meditation.
Sunday did not react particularly strongly. He could understand Bibi Dong's behavior.
Besides, this was little more than a minor fuss. Compared to that woman Dahlia, she had a long way to go.
Withdrawing his hand, Sunday turned to leave. Healing Bibi Dong's wounded soul was no more than a casual effort for him.
After that ridiculous display just now, Sunday felt she might need some time to cool down.
"Wait!"
Hearing Bibi Dong call out, Sunday stopped and turned to look at her.
"What is it?"
Bibi Dong's expression had returned to normal. She had already resumed her usual demeanor as an icy empress.
Her hands rested lightly before her abdomen, her long, snow-white legs crossed. Her purple nightdress left her figure half concealed, half revealed, while her pale purple hair fell over her shoulders.
She looked both mysterious and somewhat dignified, her rose-colored eyes filled with solemnity.
"You've come into my room time and again. Don't you intend to tell me who you really are and what you want? Or could it be that you're after this humble woman's beauty?"
Listening to Bibi Dong's barbed mockery, Sunday's eyes flashed with confusion.
Strange. Did I fail to heal her? Can even I make mistakes?
Indeed, he now suspected that he might not have healed Bibi Dong properly. Otherwise, why would she say something so outrageously absurd?
Who was he? Hadn't he told her the first time they met?
I still went too easy on her. To think she dares speak to me like that.
With that thought, Sunday spoke again.
"I already told you. My name is Van Wyck. As for what I am, even Rakshasa