The night slowly settled over the estate, and for Emery, it marked the end of another eventful day.
She returned quietly to her own quarters, the lantern light casting long shadows across the stone path as she walked.
Once inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a brief moment, allowing the silence to swallow her thoughts.
The strange emotion that had stirred in her heart earlier still lingered faintly, refusing to completely fade.
Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, Lin Feng had already drifted into sleep.
His breathing was steady, his expression calm.
If anyone were to see him now, they would think he had not a single worry in the world.
Today had been one of the happiest days of his life.
He finally understood why people could become so addicted to making love.
That kind of experience was what made people become poets, stirred the deepest emotions within them, and even drove some to madness.
