At dawn the next day, brilliant sunlight streamed into the Cold Palace.
Lu Mingyuan was still sound asleep with a soft, beautiful woman in each arm, their faint fragrance filling the air.
He had been thoroughly entangled last night, and it took him half the night to extricate himself.
A man, after all, must eventually return to his roots—go back to where he came from.
Lu Mingyuan woke early, washed up, and changed into simple martial arts attire. With a long saber at his waist, he felt refreshed and invigorated.
On the bed, Zi Yun and Hong Wan were still sleeping lazily. Their pure, lovely faces showed the fatigue from their exertions, yet also carried the rosy, vibrant glow of having been well-tended. The corners of their mouths were turned up in faint smiles, dreaming of who knows what.
Seeing this, Lu Mingyuan couldn't help but walk to the bedside, lean down, and kiss each of them on the cheek. Unexpectedly, Hong Wan woke up first, blearily opening her eyes.
