In a grand estate in the southern part of the city, the rear garden was shrouded in an array. Though it was a cold night where snow could fall at any moment, it remained as warm as spring, with emerald-green trees and clusters of vibrant flowers.

There was a lake in the garden where a pavilion spanned above it. Inside the pavilion stood a table set with exquisite food and wine, and two couches of differing heights and styles.

The Princess of Ning was wearing a light gown and reclining on one of the couches and reading a novel. Weaved from an exceptionally soft and supple fabric, her long gown draped over her like a waterfall and gave her the appearance of a freehand landscape painting with quite the graceful undulations.

Her little feet—pale with a hint of pink—were bare, wearing neither shoes nor socks. Though they looked slender, each toe was shapely with not a trace of bone visible.

Occasionally, when the story she was reading reached a climactic moment, her entire body would tense up, and the five toes of her small feet would curl, causing everyone around her to hold their breaths in anticipation.

It was at this moment a tree in the garden shook its branches, asking, “Is it time yet?”

A fish in the pond rose to the surface, gazed at the full moon in the sky, and replied, “There’s still...