Chapter 69

Seeing Song Xuan rubbing her wrist, Shen Qingnian's cheeks flushed, and she said somewhat embarrassedly, "It's alright, Your Highness didn't mean it. The marks on my body have long since healed..."

Hearing her say this, Song Xuan paused, frowned, and asked her, "Besides the bruises on your wrists, are there any other marks?"

He had previously thought that the other party only had marks on her wrists, but now that she had explained it, he understood that there must be more.

Shen Qingnian's cheeks flushed completely. She subconsciously tried to pull her hand away from the man's, but found that he was holding her very tightly, and the temperature of his knuckles seemed to be even higher than before.

Unable to pull it out, she could only say somewhat embarrassedly, "The bruises on my wrists aren't actually that serious, and it took more than half a month for the marks on my body to completely disappear..."

Song Xuan felt a tightness in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. The hazy memories of the temple seemed to be suddenly unlocked, and some scenes that had become blurred due to the Chinese medicine became clear.

All the details and the scene suddenly became clear.

He was indeed rude; the girl was left in a terrible state, even crying and begging for mercy in the end, but he still wouldn't let her go...

Shen Qingnian noticed the change in Song Xuan's expression and knew that he had remembered. She had added an antidote to the white tea earlier that could restore the memory of the person who had taken the medicine.

At this moment, Song Xuan's gentle and handsome face was filled with shock and regret, as well as a hint of barely perceptible desire.

The man, who was inexperienced in such matters, suddenly recalled those things clearly. Even someone with strong self-control like Song Xuan couldn't help but be disturbed.

Shen Qingnian pursed her lips, then leaned slightly towards Song Xuan, asking with some confusion, "Your Highness? What's wrong?"

She pretended to know nothing.

The scent of jasmine wafted into Song Xuan's nostrils, jolting him awake from his reverie. The next moment, he pulled the girl into a tight embrace.

His breathing was a little rapid, and his voice was somewhat hoarse: "Qing Nian, I'm sorry, I hurt you."

The man's body temperature was very high; at this moment, he was not only filled with regret but also agitated.

Shen Qingnian was enveloped by Song Xuan's slightly fiery aura, and she could hear his rapidly beating heart. She couldn't help but let out a soft hum: "Your Highness, my boudoir is perfectly safe."

The man above her hugged her even tighter, and Shen Qingnian even felt a little breathless.

A full quarter of an hour passed before Song Xuan's heartbeat calmed down slightly. He was still excited, but he didn't want to let go of Shen Qingnian. He simply held her in his arms and started painting her nails.

By the time the ten fingers were finished being dyed with bright red nail polish, it was already late at night.

Shen Qingnian nestled in Song Xuan's arms, gently tugging at his moon-white collar with her fingertips. Several stained spots had appeared on his clean moon-white robe, caused by his lack of skill when applying nail polish earlier.

It did, however, add a touch of melancholy.

Shen Qingnian seemed somewhat reluctant to part, and her gentle voice became slightly coquettish: "Your Highness, are you leaving...?"

After she finished speaking, she sensed the change in the other person, and her heart started beating a few beats faster than usual.

"It's late at night," Song Xuan said gently, lowering his head and gently enveloping the small hand of the beauty in his arms with his large palm.

Shen Qingnian also looked at Song Xuan, her eyes filled with reluctance, and she put her other hand on his neck.

Their eyes met, and the two were so close that their breaths almost mingled.

Shen Qingnian's voice lingered, "Your Highness..."

She applied slight pressure with the hand on Song Xuan's neck, successfully making him lower his head.

Her lips, scented with jasmine, pressed against her thin lips, and the girl's somewhat indistinct voice rang out: "Your Highness is heartless... willing to leave."