Outside, the rain fell like a curtain, layers upon layers, enveloping everything, while inside the tent was a landscape cloaked in dimness.
Liu Qian held a sharp blade, carefully slicing a tiny opening in the tent.
Through that narrow slit, a graceful figure was faintly visible in the hazy light, wiping her rain-drenched hair with a cloth.
The maid nearby handed her a dry piece of clothing, she whispered her thanks, her gentle voice faintly audible, "You can rest now! I'll wait a while longer."
The maids retreated as instructed, and she changed into a plain-colored garment she often wore.
The night grew deeper, as dark and thick as ink.
He saw her struggling with fatigue and resting her head on her arm on the table, soon appearing to fall asleep.
The surroundings were unusually quiet, except for the incessant sound of raindrops falling, tick-tock, like the heartbeat of the night.
Liu Qian hesitated no more and gently blew the sedative smoke into the tent.
