The night was as thick as ink, and the midsummer heat wave carried the scent of magnolias as it drifted slowly through the air.
Fu Yingzhi leaned against the carved window lattice, her fingertips unconsciously stroking a celadon jade pendant. The sound of cicadas, now distant, now near, only served to tangle the knot of anxiety in her heart.
"My lady, it is already a quarter past ten. You should rest," Qinyin said, stepping in softly and placing a bowl of calming soup on the table.
Chapter 98