Song Zhizhi returned home.
Despite the late hour, Ji Baijian had yet to sleep.
He was in the habit of sitting at the head of the bed, leaving a dim lamp on while reading a particularly ancient book.
When he saw Song Zhizhi return, he looked up, "Madam."
Song Zhizhi naturally walked over and nestled into Ji Baijian's embrace.
Ji Baijian put aside his book and held her in his arms.
"Tired?" he asked.
"I'm tired."
"Let me massage you."
Song Zhizhi looked at him.
Ji Baijian had already laid her down on the bed.
She was still in a little dress.
It was black, contrasting sharply with her extraordinarily fair skin.
Her delicate shoulders were bare, quite … under the light.
The dress was form-fitting, perfectly showcasing her alluring figure.
Ji Baijian's hand worked on Song Zhizhi's body, his touch just right.
She enjoyed it. "Ji Baijian, you must have practiced this before."
"Did Madam find it comfortable?"
"Mm."
"Then, I'll give Madam more massages in the future."