Waterfall Valley lay in the southern region of the continent, southeast of the Springwater Kingdom—a secluded haven of breathtaking scenery.

It was half a day’s journey from Windmill Town. Yihan and Lia arrived at the valley’s foothills by carriage at dusk. With map in hand, Lia led the way along winding mountain paths. Road signs and warning boards dotted the route, cautioning visitors not to disturb the mountain god said to dwell here.

After over an hour navigating the labyrinthine trails, the dense foliage finally parted. Yihan beheld a valley cradling countless quaint wooden cottages. Their retro charm was evident: thick curtains hung over bakery doors, rust-speckled streetlamps stood crooked, and the gurgle of water flowed beneath houses over smooth creek stones. Sparse trees grew in small yards.

Occasional figures hurried along the uneven streets, vanishing into tightly shuttered homes. "The locals avoid outsiders," Lia explained. "No neighborly bonds here. To stay long-term, you follow the rules—never trouble others."

Though puzzled by these odd customs, Yihan’s exhaustion from the journey drowned his questions. He simply craved rest. Lia, however, moved with familiar ease. She guided him past crisscrossing vegetable plots, through knee-high wild grass, to the valley’s shadowed edge. There, tucked where sunlight never reached, stood a small wooden cottage.

The two-story structure had faded yellow walls streaked with red and blue paint. Verdant vines crept through gaps in the slanted eaves. Dust-clouded windows hinted at neglect—nowhere near the luxury of their Windmill Town villa. Yihan hid his disappointment as Lia beamed. He pushed the front door, surprised by its weight.

"No lock?"

"No thieves in Waterfall Valley. Though we’ll need one soon."

*Contradictory*, Yihan thought. *Or is something valuable hidden inside?*

He shoved the door open. Stale air rushed out, thick with dust motes dancing in the thin sunlight.

Lia followed with their luggage, pulling out a cloth as she bent down. "Let’s tidy up. No sleeping otherwise."

"How long do you plan to stay?" Yihan took the cloth from her.

She straightened, her gaze deep and smile strange. "How long *you* wish to stay? For me—forever. Here, no one will disturb us."

Her pink sash slipped loose. The gown slid down her body like water, pooling at her feet like a blooming rose. Her figure was long and flawless, skin pale as fresh snow.

"Here, we can do anything we desire," she murmured, stepping closer with a dancer’s grace. Her arms opened wide, promising an embrace that could drive any man wild.

Yihan instinctively stepped back, suspicion tightening his brow.

It wasn’t dislike for her boldness—it was how *unlike* her this was. Since arriving, her energy had surged unnaturally. Every word, every gesture thrummed with feverish excitement, as if a long-awaited prize now lay within her grasp.

Hiding in Waterfall Valley made sense. Even years here were acceptable if it shielded Lia from the continent’s hunters. But fear coiled in his gut: *What if this was a trap?*

The woman before him bore little resemblance to the one in his memories. Five years of immobility couldn’t reshape a person this drastically.

Lia noticed his retreat. Her fervor dimmed. She stood bare and unashamed, flashing a candid smile. "If not now, tonight then. No one lives within hundreds of meters. Scream as loud as you like."

"Let’s clean first. I’ll make dinner."

She hummed while dressing, scrubbing furniture with cheerful efficiency—as if this dusty cottage were already home.

Yihan stood in the fading light, pushing his doubts aside.

*No turning back now. Wait and see.*

By the time they finished cleaning, night had fallen. Candlelight flickered on the ceiling as they ate simple bread and potato cakes. They shared a bottle of strong raspberry wine Lia had packed.

Yihan hadn’t seen her stash it. He refused at first, but her coaxing wore him down. Three cups later, warmth flushed his cheeks, and dizziness washed over him.

For this makeshift candlelit dinner, Lia had changed into a sheer, strapless mini-dress. The gauzy fabric barely veiled her skin, hinting at curves beneath. She crossed her long, smooth legs, gazing at the swaying Yihan through half-lidded eyes, a crimson smile playing on her lips.

This potent wine was mere child’s play for a Witch—but for an ordinary man like Yihan, it would leave him bedridden for days.

*Days are enough*, she thought. *Time to erase every trace of us. The rest… can wait.*

*What kind of wine is this? Stronger than erguotou…* Yihan’s vision blurred. Three overlapping Lias swam before him, her seductive form stirring his blood even as his limbs turned to lead.

*Can’t drink more. Need air.*

Memories of forced business toasts surfaced. He forced a weak smile, rising unsteadily. "I’ll… step outside. Get some air."

Lia watched him stumble toward the door, her smile deepening.

Each step felt like climbing a mountain. He gripped the doorknob and pulled.

The door didn’t budge.

He shoved with both hands.

Silence.

Only then did he see the palm-sized iron lock clamped firmly between door and frame—a cold, unyielding barrier.

*When did she…?*

Before he could turn, a warm, soft body pressed against his back. Her breath tickled his ear, sweet and mocking. Arms like silk ropes coiled around his chest, pinning him against her heat.

"My dear," Lia whispered, her laughter like wind chimes in the dark, "where are you going~?"