Autumn nights are cool. The late autumn in Xijing is not as sharp as Jincheng, it is more like a piece of silk soaked in cold well water, wrapping the air, slowly dipping in, slowly bringing away the warmth.

The moon was almost a little round, and the gray clouds could not hide the brilliance, and it scattered all over the room. The lights were out, but they were still on. The moonlight shines through the window paper, and the veil that swims through the inner room shines on the edge of the bed. The inky blue jacquard curtain of the carved bed is only half a fan down, and the evening mirror is lying down, with eyes closed, but not asleep.

Yin Fuzhong was quiet, and the sound of leaves falling to the ground could be heard. When the moon rose a little higher, shortening the light and shadow that had entered the room, in the darkness, the evening mirror opened his eyes, turned over and sat up under the quilt, and his fingers touched the half of the bed curtain

Lotus Lantern 164. Mrs. Yanghua is hitting her hand, please wait a moment,

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