Feng Qing pretended not to hear, continuing to feign sleep. In the silent space, Rong Ling suddenly laughed deeply, following it by reaching out a long arm, pulling Feng Qing's body into his embrace.
Feng Qing sat up in a flash like a startled pheasant: "What is the Prince doing?"
Rong Ling lay on the bed, lazily speaking: "Isn't the Princess Consort asleep? How did you wake up then? Oh, I know, the Princess Consort was pretending to sleep."
Feng Qing glared at him intensely, then became captivated by the scene before her.
Rong Ling had bathed earlier, now wearing a white inner garment, his ink-black hair spread like a blooming enchanting flower. His exquisite and beautiful face had long phoenix eyes filled with a faint light, more black and bright than the stars in the night sky. His dark, bright eyes were locked onto her, gentle and focused, as if at this moment she was his everything.
