The room was dimly lit with warm light as Wen Xinya nestled in Si Yiyan's arms. Under the hazy light, her hair that was as black as shadow fanned out soft and smooth like seaweed spreading on Si Yiyan's chest.
Wen Xinya's face was beautiful like a poppy, and her lazy, charming body exuded fatal temptation.
Wen Xinya's snow-like fingers gently scratched the scar on Si Yiyan's chest. This scar was about ten centimeters long from the chest to the ribs, probably caused by a sword. Because the injury was from a long time ago, the scary wound turned a slight nude color. But this pale nude color was very noticeable on Si Yiyan's fair skin.
"Where did this scar come from?" Wen Xinya gently rubbed the scar with her fingers, her delicate fingertips soft like feathers.