The warm sunlight poured over the bed, Qin Miaomiao lay sprawled across it, one leg exposed, looking incredibly enticing.
Lu Qing stood on the balcony making a phone call, occasionally glancing back inside.
"Did you find out? Mai Wen Entertainment? Fan Si?"
"Yes, Young Master Lu. Those people weren’t legitimate reporters; they were hired to cause trouble by someone named Fan Si. And this Fan Si is a reporter from Mai Wen Entertainment. Previously, Mai Wen Entertainment also published quite a few smear articles about Young Madam."
"Track down this Fan Si."
Han Shu quickly responded, "Yes. And what about those dozen or so people?"
"They dared to lay a hand on Miao Miao. What do you think?"
"Teach them a lesson they’ll never forget. Understood."
Han Shu, being well-acquainted with Lu Qing’s temperament, knew that sparing those people from broken limbs was already showing mercy. He couldn’t help but feel a moment of silence for them. Of all people to provoke, why would they choose Young Madam?
After hanging up the call, he looked back again and saw that Qin Miaomiao had already sat up. Her face was still groggy, as she rubbed her eyes and hugged the blanket to her chest. She glanced around the room, spotting Lu Qing standing by the windowsill, casually leaning against the railing, looking like a masterpiece painting.
Qin Miaomiao picked up a men’s shirt from the floor and slipped it on.
It was Lu Qing’s shirt—slightly oversized, just long enough to cover her hips. She stepped barefoot off the bed.
Walking barefoot toward Lu Qing, he was holding a cigarette between his fingers. Qin Miaomiao casually plucked it from his hand and took a puff, only to choke on it.
"This cigarette tastes foul."
"It does." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NoveI~Fire.net
"Here, take it back."
Lu Qing took the cigarette from her but extinguished it instead.
A breeze swept through, carrying a chill. She shivered slightly. Lu Qing took off his jacket and wrapped it around her before pulling her into his arms:
"It’s cold outside. Go back inside."
Qin Miaomiao slung her arms around his neck and said coyly, "Carry me."
The mention of a princess carry immediately reminded her of that video. It seemed that Lord Lu, the king of jealousy, hadn’t forgotten about it.
"No, give me a piggyback ride. How about that?"
Lord Lu gave her a deep look, then bent down slightly, appearing dutiful and uncomplaining as he said calmly:
Qin Miaomiao laughed and climbed onto his back. From the windowsill to the bedside was only a few steps, but Lu Qing seemed happy to indulge her in these little games.
She clung to his broad back, inhaling the faint scent of tobacco on him. It made her heart feel incredibly at ease.
He carefully placed her on the bed and fetched a pair of rabbit-themed indoor slippers for her.
"Put them on. Don’t let your feet get cold."
Qin Miaomiao sat on the bed, supporting herself with one hand. Tilting her head up to look at him, her fair skin glowed, and her face carried a playful smile:
"You put them on for me."
Lu Qing’s eyes softened, filled with warmth and indulgence:
"You’re getting better at acting spoiled."
"What? You don’t like it?"
She narrowed her eyes, as if silently threatening to bite him if he dared say he didn’t like it.
"I wouldn’t dare, my dear wife. Please, extend your noble feet."
Qin Miaomiao stretched out her foot—it was exceptionally tiny and delicate. Her toes were a soft pink, plump and beautiful, with an elegant curve.
His warm fingertips gently traced over the top of her foot, landing on her ankle, his breathing slightly uneven.
He absolutely adored her delicate feet, treating them like a rare, exquisite piece of art to be admired closely.
Qin Miaomiao’s soles felt ticklish from his touch, so she quickly exclaimed:
"Forget it, I’ll put them on myself."