That night, rain poured down heavily from the sky, smashing against the dark tile roofs of the Third Heaven. It came with thunderstorms that seemed particularly angry at the amount of blood they had to wash off from the face of the earth.
Xueyao was sitting all alone in her room, occupied by her thoughts. She sat before her table with an immortal lamp burning with little soul fire. The light was not powerful enough to overcome every corner of the room occupied by darkness. It only revealed how genuinely sad she was by everything and that intimate scene she once shared with the Black Dragon bothered her the most.
Anytime she tried not to think of it, she would close her eyes and sigh at herself in disappointment. She brought her hands away from her lap to lean more on the table, visible signs of stress and pressure tearing her apart piece by piece on the inside and now remembered how the Blac Dragon kissed her.
Not once.
Not twice.
Not even three times.
