At the fifth watch, he finally fell asleep. By the time he awoke to the bright midday sky, it was just past noon. Chen Yi glanced down at the jade-like beauty in his arms. She had clung to him all night, her lips slightly parted, making faint snores.
Though her sleeping position seemed uncomfortable, the torment she endured last night was likely too much for her. No matter how she lay—on her back or her side—it couldn't have been comfortable. Much less should it matter; they were husband and wife. Chen Yi brushed aside the stray strands of hair by her face, feeling that her sleeping visage was so ethereal, like the Buddha's radiant light atop a mountain luring men to fall into the abyss.
This was always the moment when Chen Yi felt the most conflicted.
Even during the period when she was merely a cauldron to him, Chen Yi couldn't help but be drawn to her sleeping features.
