The door closed with a creaky sound, shutting off the view of the entire courtyard.
Outside, Gu Yanshen, like an enraged bull, vented all his pent-up heat and embarrassment on the pile of supplies. Without saying a word, his actions carried an almost brutal efficiency, moving each heavy pine board with a series of clangs and stacking them neatly under the eaves. His military shirt was already soaked through with sweat, clinging tightly to the muscles of his back.
When he finally finished moving everything and ambled into the house, the heat still lingered.
Inside the house, it was very quiet. Lin Wan Yi was sitting at the only square table, resting her chin on one hand, holding a charred stick of charcoal in the other, sketching on a yellowed piece of paper. The dim light outlined her slender profile, a peaceful image, as if the tempestuous seductress in the courtyard was not her at all.
Hearing the noise, she looked up, her watery eyes sparkling under the lamp.
