Her Pain

She was alone in the silent, dark hall, with one side of her face illuminated by the lantern.

Xiu Ying laid her head against the wall, staring at the staircase. The warmth she yearned for matched the feeling of longing for Ma Dong's wine.

She couldn't help but ask an awkward question just to try again. Tame golden flames erupted as she opened her palm and lowered her gaze to it.

"Is it hot?" Xiu Ying asked herself inwardly.

She lifted her other hand and dipped a finger into the flames but it only felt like she dipped her hands into ice!

This was her current stage.

It was torture.

To have flames, long for the heat yet be comforted by the cold. 

"Wicked old cat..." She spat and clenched her teeth like she held onto his flesh imaginatively.

Looking at her white skin, which revealed her veins, a soft sigh of defeat left her lips.