Last night the crabapple blossoms were kissed by the rain, several flowers stand light and delicate as if they wish to speak. The beauty rises at dawn, stepping out of the orchid room, and picks some to compare against her rosy makeup.
"How come you're up so early?"
In the early morning, Yang Zhenshan lifted the curtain above the bed and asked softly.
Yu Qingyi sat in front of the dressing mirror, combing her long, waterfall-like hair.
"The children will come to pay their respects soon, we need to prepare a bit!"
Yu Qingyi's face still had a faint blush, perhaps from their first intimate night, a hint of allure now present in her eyes.
Yang Zhenshan got out of bed wearing his middle garment, entranced by her appearance, he couldn't help but feel a strong longing.
"Let them wait then!"
