On his way to the kitchen, Lu Yuan ran into Zhao Qiao'Er and Song Meiqin.
Each of them was holding a tray piled high with food.
Seeing his two aunts walk toward him, Lu Yuan clutched his "precious," which was still a little sore.
He'd gone at it so hard last night that even his "precious" couldn't take it anymore.
Zhao Qiao'Er giggled and said, "Sweetheart, we haven't seen you for a while. How come it feels like your stamina has dropped?"
Lu Yuan felt like a man who'd eaten a bitter melon but couldn't complain—they seemed to think he'd just come back from a vacation.
This trip, he'd first slain an Ancient Poison Scorpion, then fought a Flying Corpse, and on top of that, he'd had to outwit and outfight people. His body was completely drained.
And as soon as he got back to the Zhao Mansion, he'd been squeezed dry again.
Song Meiqin was the more understanding one. She said gently, "Alright, sister, stop teasing our nephew."
