The day of making the ointment is getting closer.

I can feel that my sister is becoming very nervous.

Often, she wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night, looking at the narrow iron bars outside the wall of the secret room, the cold moonlight beyond her reach.

I wake up in a daze and see my sister staring at the moonlight, lost in thought.

I ask my sister, "Do you regret it, sister?"

My sister shakes her head, "I don't regret it, it's just that..."

It's just that she misses the sunlight and the moon outside.

I know what my sister wants to say.

Every time I come back from outside, I can always see the envy in my sister's eyes.

But she is the ointment girl, and this is her choice.

The secret room is filled with fragrance, and it's my sister crying.

Actually, my sister can't cry. The blood in her body has turned into flower dew, and she can no longer shed tears.

But when my sister's emotions are too intense, she exudes an enticing fragrance.

I suddenly understand why the village chief said that the ointment in the village drives countless men crazy.

Even I now have a strong desire to bite my sister's arm and hold it tightly.