By the time the moon crested the willows, the Oiran was almost smoking from her throat, trembling and tottering from the bed.
She moved cautiously, one step at a time.
"?"
Song Huaxu watched her with a cold gaze.
The Oiran was immediately so frightened that she clutched her chest like Xishi, her pale little face using a finger to point at her own throat, indicating she was very thirsty, and her throat hurt a lot.
Then she pointed at the teacup and teapot on the table.
With a beseeching look in her eyes, she gestured, "May I have a sip?" She pressed her hands together in earnest prayer.
Song Huaxu's brows twitched slightly, and he nodded assent.
The Oiran stepped forward immediately, took a clean teacup, poured the tea, and drank it down. After three or four cups, she finally felt some relief in her throat.
But soon she clutched her forehead.
Dizzy... so dizzy.
"This tea?" Before she could finish her sentence, the Oiran rolled her eyes back and fell straight to the ground.
