Min Ning tiredly opened her eyes.
It felt as if every bone in her body had been run over, an indescribable ache and limp soreness in all her limbs, worst of all below the Dantian, as though last night a wild storm had broken a jade tree, its branches still shaking, leaves still trembling.
Her consciousness had yet to fully return, and already the shattered images of last night surged into her mind, jostling to be first.
Candlelight, ragged breathing, entangled bodies, Qin Qingluo's domineering, enjoying gaze, Lin Wanxiao's deer‑fright whimpers, and… that bastard Chen Yi's scalding body heat and hands everywhere…
Memory washed over her like tides beating against the rocks on the shore, leaving behind damp, messy traces; her head swam, and she nearly sank back into sleep.
