Deep in the quiet night, in a guest room in the West Wing.
Two swords lay on the table, and white dresses were draped neatly beside the bed.
Two equally coldly beautiful women, one older and one younger, lay back to back on the bed, their faces faintly flushed with wine, seemingly fast asleep.
But after drinking to their hearts' content at the banquet, simply returning to bed in the dead of night always seemed to lack a little something.
Nangong Ye lay on the inside, his fingers gently stroking the Vermilion Pendant on his chest. He wanted to still his mind and drift off to sleep, yet his head was unusually clear. Even a single day seemed to stretch into a year as he secretly pondered:
I feel so empty inside...
That wretched brat wouldn't sneak over while Momo was asleep, would he?
If he dared act so outrageously, I'd never speak to him again...
How could he possibly settle down and sleep? If he doesn't come here, he's gone to the Demoness. That lawless master and disciple pulled at our skirts, yet they get all his affection tonight. How utterly outrageous...
And while Nangong Ye feared both that he would come and that he wouldn't, the person behind him was just as lost in thought.
Linghu Qingmo lay on his side pretending to sleep, his ears constantly following his master's movements as he muttered inwardly:
Master should be asleep by now, right?
That lecher found me a flying sword. Giving him just one kiss might be taking his affection a little too much for granted...
He said he'd wait for me in his room. If I don't go see him, he'll surely press his advantage and refuse to let it go tomorrow...
*At this hour, he should