Outside the small inn at the foot of Mo Mountain, a storm raged. Raindrops, thick as marbles, hammered against the windowpane, coating the inside with a thin film of mist.
The room was dim and damp, the narrow bed still swaying gently.
A man’s long, sinewy hand pinned her slender, pale fingers to the mattress. As their fingers intertwined, a warmth slowly bloomed at their tips.
The corners of Qiao
















