Outside, down the corridor dimly lit by hanging lamps, Yueyao's, no, Yueshuang's figure disappeared into the shadows, her steps unsteady yet relentless. Each step carried the quiet weight of a woman walking toward a destiny neither love nor death could turn her from.
The corridor shimmered faintly beneath the pale glow of moonstone lamps, their blue light casting trembling shadows along the carved wooden floor. The faint scent of sandalwood drifted in the air, the incense long since burned low, leaving only its ghostly fragrance behind.
Yueshuang's bare feet made no sound as she stumbled toward her chamber, the silk of her robes whispering softly against the cold air. Each step seemed to echo through the silence like a quiet farewell.
