As the morning light spread across the glazed tiles, Ye Fan landed on the eaves of the side hall, the hem of his cyan robe still stained with rotting leaves from the Mass Grave. From inside the hall came the crisp sound of porcelain cups lightly clanking, mingling with Qín Wǎnshuāng's voice: "Just keep it warm. If he's hungry..." Her voice cut off abruptly—she had already sensed the faint, ghost-like sword qi outside the window.
"A-Ye." The moment the door curtain was lifted, Ye Fan saw the bloodshot veins in her eyes. Qín Wǎnshuāng was not wearing men's attire today; her moon-white court dress made her neck look like snow, and only a cyan jade hairpin was stuck in her hair, giving her a slightly more flustered look than usual without makeup. The tea cup in her hand was still swaying slightly, splashing tea onto the sleeve embroidered with a golden phoenix, blurring into a dark stain.
Ye Fan's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed back the taste of blood he had forced down during his frantic night ride. He unfastened the Jiuxiao Huanpei from his waist and placed it on the desk. The star patterns on the zither body flickered with his breathing, as if responding to the rapid heartbeat within the hall.
Chapter 176