The cat demon Xuanqing was lying on the moonlit eaves, her mysterious clothes almost blending into the night. Only the cinnabar mole at the end of his right eye was shockingly red, like a seal of hundreds of years of beauty and loneliness. He supported his chin and looked down with a half-smile. As his eyes moved, the cinnabar came to life. As the curve of the end of his eyes slightly raised, it was like a silent hook, casually but accurately catching the visitor's attention and soul.
He spoke lazily, with the hoarseness and magnetism unique to cats in his voice:
"It's such a boring night, you came just in time."
