At the end of the letter, there were lines of impassioned, indelicate poetry that read: "Spring's splendor vast as the sea, fervor thick as mud, seize the melting warmth of the weather, sprawl on floral bedding... so smitten, soaked through gauzy silk, not a trace of tears of longing on the kerchief." There were also two lines of smaller script, containing even more private words that were too scandalous to hear.
Sang Wan's face turned as red as rouge in an instant, her neck flushing with an embarrassing heat. Instinctively, her hand rose to cover her face. The coolness of her hand felt slightly soothing against her skin. Her gaze fell on the letter she had tossed onto the ground, and thinking of the licentious poetry and remembering the unfinished intimate moment they had before parting, interrupted by his teeth-gritted words, "I'll settle with you when I get back!"—Sang Wan's heart surged with mortification again.
