The person holding a small oil lamp probed the entrance to the cellar and then descended the ladder to approach Wufu.
He squatted down, brought the oil lamp close to her face, and saw nothing unusual. He glanced at her legs, curled up, and her chest rising and falling with each breath, fragile yet tempting.
The man swallowed hard, placed the oil lamp on the ground, and, as if possessed, reached out to touch Wufu's face.
People like them lived by the knife's edge, seldom encountering proper women. To find a woman, they would visit brothels or hide out on some mountain and snatch those who were alone.
Now, seeing a delicate girl, although not strikingly beautiful, she was much prettier than those sturdy types and seemed so young and tender.
The man's hand was about to touch Wufu's face when suddenly, he met a pair of shining black eyes.
The man's hand stiffened, and as she curled her lips into a strange smile, his pupils shrank, and he tried to retreat with a loud shout.
