Of course, she had troubles of her own, too.
Namely...
The house was simply too small to block out any sound.
Thus, every night, she could hear the Young Master bullying her Miss.
It left her cheeks scarlet and her eyes filled with bashfulness.
She wished she could wrap herself tightly in her quilt.
How embarrassing!
Far too embarrassing!
How could a little maid like her bear such things?
Every night, she could only sneak into the courtyard by moonlight to wash clothes. Yet those sounds pierced her ears like demonic music, seeping through the cracks around the window.
Once again, they slipped into her ears.
Ling'er could only take off her skirt and slip into the water. Beneath the hazy moon, in the beautiful night, her cheeks, still rounded with baby fat, gradually flushed crimson.
She recalled what the neighborhood maids her age had said...
A maid like her was also called a concubine maid. In a little while, she would have to push her bottom at night...
Ling'er's youthful cheeks grew redder and redder, as though painted with layer upon layer of rosy clouds. Countless ripples stirred in her clear, bright almond-shaped eyes.
She listened night after night.
Finally, her Miss pulled her into the room.
On the second floor of the Illusory Moon Tower, Fang Yang watched the scenes in the mirror, his face dark with exasperation.
According to what the Tower Spirit had just said, every decision made within the illusion was connected to one's true heart.
So...
Was this pitiful yet earnest little lass thinking about this every day?
Was she plotting every day about when she could become a concubine maid?
Depraved. Utterly depraved.
He looked into the mirror again and discovered that, within the illusion, the little maid was already lying in