Tan Yang's Quiet Pavilion Music Tower.
Soft musical notes, the sound of a pipa, emanated from behind the curtains.
Zhao Tianming's face was anxious, beads of sweat visible on his forehead as he stood with head bowed.
His robe was damp in several places, his hands tightly clenched, daring not to move an inch.
Inside the room, a beautiful woman with fair white shoulders exposed was skillfully playing the pipa softly.
The woman was dressed in a blue one-piece short dress, a black veil covering her face, her long hair styled high, with a striking tattoo on her neck.
Under the light, the tattoo seemed to ambiguously resemble a cherry.
Despite her white legs being mostly exposed from under the skirt, the material somewhat sheer and revealing at the chest.
Yet Zhao Tianming did not dare to even entertain a fleeting glance.
The music lingered for more than ten minutes before gradually calming.
The pipa was gently set aside.
The woman silently sighed, seemingly resigned and weary.
