"Really?" He Pingsheng asked her with a smile.
Wen Buwan did not answer him. Instead, she lifted her head and covered his lips with hers.
Candle shadows glowed dim yellow as the night's water clock rang clear,
Dawn's light broke through, making the golden windows bright.
Beneath the sandalwood Buddha, how many bouts of clouds and rain,
For whom was Great Restoration to Life murmured low?
The great hall, so turbulent before, now resembled a sleeping, sickly tiger, crouching there without moving.
Inside the great hall, all the candles had gone out.
The golden Buddha statue loomed faintly in the weak light. The uneven distribution of light across its recessed and raised surfaces made it appear both solemn and ferocious, leaving anyone who looked at it trembling with fear.
A wisp of fragrant incense burned before the Buddha, its smoke curling upward.
On the broad meditation cushion, Wen Buwan slept soundly beside He Pingsheng. Half her body lay across his legs, while the other half was covered by a fragrant golden quilt, leaving only her smooth back and a stretch of waist slender enough to clasp in one hand exposed.
He Pingsheng wore a loose Daoist robe. At that moment, he held a green jade slip with a gloomy expression, studying it intently.
The more he read, the gloomier his expression became.
Finally, he sighed deeply, his gaze settling on Wen Buwan's face, which was turned to one side.
Perhaps because someone was watching her, Wen Buwan suddenly opened her eyes. Still drowsy and bleary, she nestled a little closer to He Pingsheng and asked, "Brother... what are you doing?"
"What are you holding?"
"Great Restoration to Life," He Pingsheng said flatly.
The half-asleep Wen Buwan instantly woke fully, then sat up with a start. Her body trembled slightly