"Mm, Rong'er brother, what's wrong with you? Why... do you look like this?"
"Ah, it's nothing, just... just didn't expect you to come over in the middle of the night, it's a bit of a surprise."
Zhao Rong's smile was awkward and strained.
"Hee hee, didn't see that coming, huh? Hmph, the dumb woman in the west wing didn't see it coming either, slept like a huge lazy pig."
Zhao Qian'er's little face was filled with smug satisfaction as she turned her head toward the west wing and made a face.
She walked forward happily, stood on her tiptoes, crossed her slender arms, and hooked them around his neck, whispering, "But it's good this way, it won't disturb the two of us."
The young girl leaned her face against the chest of the young Confucian Scholar, looking up with her peach blossom eyes wide open, gazing into his.
Those eyes were large and animated, occasionally flashing with a touch of cunning.
"......"
