You Ying didn't like women.
To be more precise, he hated women.
Except for his own mother, he felt a deep disgust toward any other woman. No matter how beautiful they were, in his mind they were no different from pig meat at a butcher shop covered in flies.
But at this moment, he had to admit that the woman sitting in the carriage, carefully sewing clothing, carried an inexplicable sense of beauty.
Because the carriage curtain was always pulled open, and he perpetually followed behind the second carriage, he had the opportunity to observe the simple and elegant woman inside as they traveled.
Gradually, he found it difficult to tear his gaze away.
He had seen countless stunning women—some enchanting, some aloof, some delicate...
But on Immortal Master's bed, they were nothing but superficial and vulgar vessels chasing indulgence.
This woman, however, felt different.
