The fifth month of Yan Shuo's absolute house arrest began with a profound, heavy sigh.
Sitting on his heated jade cushion beneath the blooming peach tree, the ancient Demon Lord had officially run out of things to count. He had counted the peach blossoms (four hundred and twelve). He had counted the koi fish in the pond (fifteen). He had even counted the number of times Su Mei twitched her fox ears per minute when she thought he wasn't looking (an average of thirty-two).
He rested his chin on his palm, staring blankly at the perfectly white, cloud-swept sky.
It was a sigh born of pure, unadulterated boredom.
However, in the master courtyard, a sigh was never just a sigh.
Sitting right next to him, Tantai Zhi instantly dropped the spiritual jade-carving knife she was using to peel a spirit-grape. Her golden eyes snapped to his face, scanning his pale features with the intensity of a hawk spotting a field mouse.
