That night.
Finally, it was over.
Zhao Ci stared blankly at the window, through which the pale blue light of dawn was filtering.
It was already daybreak.
He hadn't slept a wink.
'This is absolute torture!'
He had been sleeping so peacefully.
Then suddenly, that vixen had shown up, worked his body into a frenzy, and left him high and dry.
And then Zhu Li had shown up and thrown her body at him, too.
'What have I done to deserve this?!'
In any case, when he'd ordered Cuiyun to prepare a bath and wash his clothes in the middle of the night, the maid's face had been red for a long time.
After this disastrous defeat,
Zhao Ci understood.
Although his soul was that of an experienced old hand, his body still held its Primordial Yang. It was utterly pathetic.
Logically speaking,
