Afterward, Su Qingdai found herself unable to speak, for those calloused fingers suddenly moved, brushing across her neat teeth and delicious honey water, vigorously stirring it, even boldly pinching the shrinking bud, robbing it of the ability to speak.
Zhao Rong chuckled lightly, "We’ve hardly started, just trying things out with you, and there are some things I’m just too lazy to use."
He shook his head and with his left hand pinched her chin, lifting her compliant face, causing Su Qingdai to look into his eyes. With their gazes locked, Zhao Rong calmly said, "This young master still needs to cultivate, just one step away from the Fu Yao Realm. I can’t stumble because of you."
"You mean..." Su Qingdai paused, grasping the crown prince’s left hand, feeling the airflow inside him, and suddenly understood.
She looked up, joyfully said, "Ziyu, you seem to be only one meridian away."
Su Qingdai bit her lip, reined in her smile, no longer playfully seducing him into sin, and chided with plump lips, "Really, yet you still mess around with... with me, bullying me..."
Her tone carried some feigned annoyance.
Zhao Rong didn’t speak, but looked at Su Qingdai intently, seeing her face filled with tender concern, appearing genuine.
Some of his doubts dissipated, and he smiled, "With just that level of skill?"
"You, you don’t hit, the young Miss Zhao will probably be back soon."
Zhao Rong turned his head to look at the pitch-dark night outside the window. Indeed, it was getting late.
Seizing the moment, Su Qingdai’s body flipped, her fragrant hips sat on his lap, casually pressing Zhao Rong’s un-retracted right hand beneath her. She didn’t mind at all. Seeing that Zhao Rong didn’t refuse her seat, Su Qingdai smiled, wrapping both hands around his left hand, her tender body limply laying against Zhao Rong’s broad chest.
While happily listening to the forceful heartbeats of the true heir, Su Qingdai whispered secretly.
Strategizing for Zhao Rong’s cultivation, she took out some treasures from the Sumeru Object to give to Zhao Rong.
Zhao Rong watched quietly, shook his head declining them, occasionally responding, leaving some suggestions unanswered.
Soon after, they heard footsteps approaching in the distance and the two separated.
Su Qingdai returned to her room.
Little Qian’er returned with Uncle Bai in tow.
That night, Zhao Rong flipped through the Martial Artist’s journal and started reading it thoroughly.
The night passed without a word.
The next day, Zhao Rong left the mansion...
PS: Cough, refreshing in the morning...
As some doubts cleared up in his mind, he laughed and said, "Just with that level of skill?"
"You, don’t hit, Miss Zhao is likely to come back soon."
Zhao Rong turned his head to glance outside at the deep night, indeed, it was getting late.
Seizing the opportunity, Su Qingdai flipped her body, sitting her fragrant hips on his lap, casually pressing Zhao Rong’s yet un-retracted right hand beneath her. She didn’t mind, and seeing that Zhao Rong didn’t refuse her embrace, Su Qingdai smiled broadly, her arms wrapped around his left hand, her gentle body weakly resting on Zhao Rong’s strong chest.
While happily listening to the forceful heartbeat of the true heir, Su Qingdai whispered secrets.
She strategized for Zhao Rong’s cultivation, taking out some treasures from the Sumeru Object to give to him.
Zhao Rong watched quietly, shook his head not accepting them, occasionally responding but leaving some suggestions open-ended.
After a short while, the sound of distant footsteps approached, and the two separated.
Su Qingdai went back to her room.
Little Qian’er and Uncle Bai returned.