Xia Houzhe woke up drenched in sweat from the nightmare, sitting on the bed, feeling a piercing cold. He instinctively gathered his bedding closer, and looked at the dim candlelight in the chamber. Since it was late at night, the lamps were few, only two flickering slightly as the wind moved inside.
Within the chamber, it was quiet enough to hear breathing, and it seemed like phantoms were lurking around.
Suddenly, a faint yet high-pitched scream echoed from somewhere, sending chills down Xia Houzhe's spine. He looked towards the sound, guessing it was from the direction of the Cold Palace.
The oppressive atmosphere was suffocating him, so he threw off the covers and got out of bed. His legs weakened, nearly collapsing to the floor, as he staggered to the table, grabbing the teapot to pour it directly into his mouth.
Only when the cold tea flowed down his throat did the feeling of restlessness subside a bit, yet the bedchamber still suffocated him.
