In front of the gate was a wide and long jade staircase with about twenty steps leading up. On both sides of the staircase, wisps of smoke curled up. Every two steps, there was a woman with a graceful figure, wearing a colorful long dress, revealing her tender, lotus-root-like arms, and wearing a veil. The women would occasionally look up and gaze at each other.
As a chilling wind approached, the women saw Wen Long, shrouded in a black robe, drawing near from afar.
They dared not look at each other, and hurriedly lowered their heads, standing on either side of the stone steps, waiting for Wen Long to pass by.
At this moment, the weather was neither too hot nor too cold.
"You, come inside with me." Wen Long glanced at the first woman on his left, then stopped and pointed.
"Me?" Upon hearing the roll call, the pink-clad woman at the top of the left was startled, then "plop!" she knelt on the ground and "thump thump!" facing Wen Long, bowing her back and kowtowing repeatedly to the ground.
"What? You're not willing?" Wen Long, who had already taken two steps, took another step back and glanced at her sideways. "Don't you even care about my favor?"
“No,” the woman shook her head and waved her hands repeatedly, “I, I, I just heard that yesterday’s Ah Lian…”
"Guards, drag her inside!" Upon hearing this, Wen Long's face turned cold, and he shouted at the palace entrance.
"Ah!" A dark cloud rolled in, and the woman screamed. When the cloud dissipated, the woman who had been kneeling on the ground had vanished without a trace...
At this moment, Wen Long's face was cold and sinister. He quickened his pace and disappeared from the main entrance of the hall in just a moment.
"Ah Jiao!" The other women beside the jade stone all reached out, trying to suppress their cries of grief, and almost simultaneously, "plop!" they knelt on the ground...
Shortly afterward, a middle-aged man with a round face, curly hair, wearing a sleeveless beige long shirt, appeared at the corner below the jade steps.
A man with a round face, kind and gentle, with a mustache the same color as his hair, appeared before the jade steps...
On the steps, a group of young and beautiful women sat around, heads bowed, wiping away tears, trying to keep their voices down as they sobbed softly…
Seeing this, the middle-aged man was surprised. He then walked up to the two women at the front with a gentle smile and asked, "Baihe, Biyu, why are you so sad?"
“We,” the woman in white raised her head, her eyes red-rimmed, and looked at the middle-aged man before her. They exchanged a glance. “We are crying for A-Lian, A-Jiao, and A-Xiu’er. The day before yesterday and yesterday, A-Xiu and A-Lian went with him and never returned. Today, A-Jiao was forcibly taken away by him. We don’t know if we’ll see her tomorrow. And the eight of us remaining women, we don’t know what the future holds. We are just pitiful palace maids in this vast spirit realm, utterly powerless to resist him…”
"My Lord, how can we, these humble women, not be saddened?"
"Is the 'him' you're talking about Hua Motian?" Zhuoyue twitched his mustache, frowned, and his eyes flashed with a sharp light. "Is he the one who made you stand here every day?"
“Yes,” several women nodded, but quickly shook their heads, looking at Zhuoyue with teary eyes, hesitant to speak.
"Go ahead and say it. I know you have something to say. Is there something on your mind?" Zhuoyue shook his head. These girls were all young, in the prime of their lives. Like his own children, Zhuoyue felt he should care for them.
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