Tiny specks of dust drifted slowly in the shafts of light, like countless little sprites dancing.
In late autumn, on the cusp of winter, even the Capital's mild southern climate could not keep the temperature from dropping day by day.
Just a few days earlier, the light gauze curtains in the inner courtyard of Prince Cheng's Residence had all been replaced with multiple layers of warm drapes, leaving it as warm as spring within.
Zhou Cheng lay on his side, propping his head on one hand as he watched the still-sleeping Shen Wan'er.
Her lashes were long and slightly curled, trembling gently with her breathing like two little fans.
Her lips pressed together at times and relaxed at others, as though she were still caught in last night's dreams.
With Zhan Yuanyuan fanning the flames, he had taken Shen Wan'er after all.
Perhaps Zhan Yuanyuan had done a good job persuading her, perhaps Yan Bingyun had broken her heart completely, or perhaps living under someone else's roof had left her desperately in need of security.
In any case, when he wanted her, she had offered only a few faint, token protests before letting him do as he pleased.
Shen Wan'er had delicate features, with gentleness written all across her brows and eyes. She was a classic demure beauty, and in looks alone, she was no less lovely than the other women.
Zhou Cheng's gaze fell on her bare shoulders and neck, where several faint red marks remained, traces he had left the night before.
The mere thought of Shen Wan'er's anxious, helpless, and submissive little expressions last night, and the sense of conquest that welled up naturally, sent heat through him and stirred his desire.
Perhaps his gaze was too aggressive, carrying an almost tangible force. Shen Wan'er's lashes fluttered,