The Consort of the R

A single, painted hand shot out from the ground, grabbing onto the ankle with a desperate force, as if grasping at a lifeline. A shattering sound echoed, followed by a frantic cry: "Save me... save me...",Her pale, slender hands covered her eyes, though she was no longer dreaming. Yet, the scene from moments ago remained vivid and clear in her mind.,The most bustling place at night was no other than the taverns and flower streets. Beautifully dressed courtesans from the red-light districts leaned against the railings, waving their handkerchiefs in the wind, inviting customers with their charm.。