Morning came quietly, sunlight spilling through the curtains in soft golden strands.
Ye Jian lay draped over Lin Feng's body, her bare skin pressed against his warmth, her breathing slow yet uneven.
Strands of her hair clung to her cheeks, slightly damp, and her expression carried a mix of exhaustion and lingering disbelief.
She had tried for hours.
Again and again, she adjusted herself, steadied her breathing, and gathered her courage but no matter what she did, the gap between expectation and reality remained insurmountable.
What she faced was simply too much for her to handle.
Lin Feng's sword was simply too large for her tight scabbard to accommodate.
In the end, her resolve wavered, and with a quiet sigh, she finally gave up, her body going slack as she rested against him.
Tang Aining and Li Zhiyan laid nearby, their eyes wide as they took in the scene before them.
