The autumn and winter in the Northern Land are chilling to the bone.
The long-neglected official residence is swept by the wild wind, and the rickety canopy bed creaks in the silent deep night. Occasionally, the girl's rapid moan can be heard, soon shattered into pieces.
The girl on the bed has a flushed face, her beautiful almond eyes slightly open, unfocused, her consciousness in disarray.
Xie Wanqing can no longer remember how long she's been tormented, only feeling as if she has returned to Dayang Lake. But this time, she became the painting boat drifting on the lake's surface, sometimes riding the wind and waves, sometimes swaying slowly after hitting a reef.
The man above seems to have said something. She tries hard to hear clearly, only to see a drop of hot sweat slide down his nose.
It falls onto her face.
She wants to reach out to wipe it, only to find her hands pinned over her head.
Her face unwittingly shows a tinge of grievance, "You... let go..."
