Zhi'er said softly, "Let me get up first."
Feng Fuce, for some unknown reason, didn't move for a moment.
Usually, whenever she spoke, he would immediately comply.
But at this moment, his gaze was deep and obscure, like it was hiding a abyss, watching her lips and pondering something.
Zhi'er looked at him, puzzled.
Until she saw Feng Fuce slowly lower his head.
Zhi'er called out in confusion, "Brother Ce?"
Feng Fuce suddenly halted his actions.
His eyes regained clarity, as cold and calm as snow.
Earlier, Zhi'er had been pressed down on the table by him, her face pink and her eyes smiling.
That appearance, he actually found it momentarily beautiful.
Beautiful enough that he momentarily wanted to lean down and test the fragrance.
Feng Fuce immediately moved aside, Zhi'er stood up and patted her dress.
She didn't take Feng Fuce's strange change earlier seriously.
Instead, she smiled as she recounted all the conversation she had in the pavilion with Xi Yuan to Feng Fuce.
