The woodshed was narrow, built with yellow mud and stones, with a door but no windows. The farmer feared the two people he sheltered would suffocate to death, so when he left, he left the door ajar, letting the slanting moonlight in.
Illuminating Wen Caishang's white boots.
The two escaped, changing their clothes completely. But fortunately, the boots "survived." These white boots were of exceptional quality, beautifully embroidered, not stained by dust.
In these rural areas, farmers need to store firewood all year round. Along the way, they pick up broken branches and leaves to fill the woodshed.
Over time, a substantial pile accumulates.
Concealing their figures.
Wen Caishang's beautiful eyes carried a hint of menace as she pressed down on Li Xian, a soft sword in her sleeve flashing coldly. In this posture and state, she feared Li Xian would escape.
