early morning,

Zheng Wanqing was lying on Xie Yun's arms, quietly gazing at the sleeping face of the person in front of her.

The young commander, who had been in love until three o'clock last night, was now sleeping soundly. His sharp brows were relaxed and his long eyelashes cast light shadows under his eyes, revealing a rare boyish innocence.

Her fingertips unconsciously roamed along the hideous scar on his waist and abdomen. This has become her most private habit.

Whenever they were alone, her fingers would always involuntarily find the scar and trace it carefully, as if she wanted to heal his pains through the warmth of her fingertips.

Xie Yun seemed to sense something in his sleep. He frowned slightly, then slowly opened his eyes. Although the sleepiness had not completely faded away, his eyes instantly softened when he saw Zheng Wanqing.

"Are you bothering me as soon as you wake up?" The voice in the morning was so low and hoarse that it was touching.

He grabbed Zheng Wanqing's hand and pressed it against his chest, "I touch it every time..." His thumb with thin calluses rubbed the delicate skin on her wrist, "It makes my heart itch."

Zheng Wanqing smiled and pulled her hand back, then playfully scratched his scar.

Xie Yun's breathing suddenly sank, a hint of heat flashed in his eyes, and he turned over and trapped her under him.

"If you touch me again," he whispered in her ear, biting her earlobe, "you won't be able to get out of bed today."

The quilt slipped off quietly during their movements, revealing the red marks on Zheng Wanqing's shoulders. Xie Yun lowered his head and kissed her there gently, his movements gentle yet full of love.

Zheng Wanqing trembled slightly, and couldn't help but stretch out her hand to push it away, her voice soft and sticky: "Itchy..."

Suddenly, a maid's cautious cough was heard outside the door: "Young Marshal, Madam, would you like breakfast?"

Xie Yun then reluctantly stood up, with tenderness still lingering in his eyes. He reached out to take the pajamas beside him and tied the belt for Zheng Wanqing himself.

Zheng Wanqing looked at his focused face, her heart filled with sweetness. She said, "Pass it on."

When the footsteps in the corridor gradually faded away, Zheng Wanqing slapped away Xie Yun's uneasy fingers when he was helping her tie the belt, and said with a slight scolding: "Master Marshal...didn't you make enough noise last night?"

Xie Yun chuckled, then took the hot towel from the copper basin and wrung it out skillfully. He held Zheng Wanqing's face and gently wiped her cheek.

Zheng Wanqing looked up, her eyes lingering on his gray jaw. She couldn't help but reach out and touch it, and a fine tingling sensation came from her fingertips.

"Did it prick you?" Xie Yun grabbed her finger and pecked it lightly on her lips. "I'll fix it in a minute."

Zheng Wanqing shook her head and rubbed the stubble with her palm. In fact, she didn't dislike it. On the contrary, she felt that the stubble added a few more charms to his face, but it was just too prickly.

Xie Yun seemed to see through her thoughts and rubbed her head lazily. His eyebrows were slightly raised, with a rare laziness and coquettishness in his eyes: "Madam, will you help me clean up personally?"

Zheng Wanqing's heart softened, and she said hesitantly, "If I accidentally scratch your face..."

Xie Yun didn't care at all. He picked up the razor box from the bedside table and took out a Western folding knife from it.

He took Zheng Wanqing's hand, put the razor in her palm, and put the back of her hand against his cheek, encouraging her: "If you are not afraid of a gun, why are you afraid of a knife?"

Zheng Wanqing's fingertips trembled slightly as she held the razor, feeling a little nervous: "I've only seen my brother use it..." Before she finished speaking, Xie Yun had already applied a hot towel to his face, and the steaming mist gradually softened his sharp outlines.