Li Wangyu stood with a slight toothache in the bathhouse paved with blue stones, watching a young maid of twelve or thirteen years old struggling to move a large wooden tub filled with hot water and pouring it into the bathing tub.,Ming Peilan's maid then broke into a smile, and continued her work carrying the bucket.,Jiāng's neck was stiff as he twisted it from side to side, taking in the scene. It was still that same bathhouse: blue-tiled roof, whitewashed walls, and on a wooden rack beside him hung his own long robe, freshly taken off...。