Midnight struck. A profound silence enveloped everything, and the entire Ye Family palace had quieted down. Everyone was asleep. Only the streetlights and moonlight seemed to chatter, keeping each other company.
A gust of sea breeze rustled the white gauze curtains, making them sway like Chopin's nocturnes.
Today, a small bell was tied to Ye Siyuan's bedroom window. This seemingly ordinary bell actually had a significant trick to it.
When the wind blew, its TING-A-LING sound was pleasant not only to human ears; even the shadowy figure sneaking in through the bay window found it exceptionally melodious.
That figure silently slipped into Ye Siyuan's bedroom and quickly floated to the bedside, staring at Ye Siyuan, half her face buried in the pillow, sound asleep.
