Elizabeth's manor was as quiet as a sleeping ancient castle in the dead of night. Occasionally, a gust of wind passing through the corridor would make a window let out a faint CREAK.
Elizabeth's room and Li Wei's room were seven or eight meters apart.
A distance that was far enough, yet not nearly far enough.
Not long after she had gone to bed, Anya's voice—or more accurately, her completely unrestrained voice—passed through the bedroom door, traveled down the corridor, and finally reached Elizabeth's room.
If at first it had been faint, low moans, within a few minutes it had transformed into a clear declaration, as if staking a claim of sovereignty.
Elizabeth suddenly realized a very important point.
The house was from the 1920s. In terms of soundproofing, neither its materials nor its acoustic design could hold a candle to a modern residence.
'I might as well have rented out an entire hotel floor,' she thought. 'Why am I torturing myself by being forced to eavesdrop here?'
