"I was wrong!"
"I really know I was wrong!"
"Master!"
...
However, no matter how hot he was or how much pain he felt, Murong didn't dare to get out of the big iron pot by himself. He could only stay put, constantly using his voice to "bother" Mu Qiuniang.
And Mu Qiuniang, sitting on the other side of the screen, holding a scripture, slowly reading.
In front of her, Zhan Jingshu was kneeling straight-backed on the other side of the tea table, earnestly copying books. It wasn't that he was really that focused, but that his ears were plugged with earplugs, truly achieving the state of "hearing nothing outside the window."
"Master, you don't love me anymore..."
Murong was steamed to the point where his face turned as red as a tomato.
His breath also gradually weakened, and his eyes started to turn white.
Mu Qiuniang lifted her gaze slightly, glanced at him, moved her fingers, and flicked an elixir into his mouth.
