Lu Qingzhou suddenly burst into tears.
Mu Shaohua sighed softly, stepped forward and put her arms around Lu Qingzhou's trembling shoulders, "What kind of behavior is this, a grown man crying like this? Be good, don't cry, come here and let your sister hug you."
Her embrace was warm and soft, like a safe harbor. "I'm here for you. I always said I'd be your strong support. I love you, my little rascal!"
Lu Qingzhou buried his head in her arms, crying even harder, his suppressed, sordid thoughts pouring out uncontrollably: "Sister Shaohua, I'm guilty! I'm a beast, a bastard! I always wanted to get you and Qingyao into bed together..."
Su Qingyao and Mu Shaohua froze at the same time, their cheeks instantly flushing red.
Su Qingyao was both ashamed and angry, and her voice changed: "What kind of nonsense are you spouting, you bastard? What kind of people do you take us for? I really want to beat you up."
Mu Shaohua took a deep breath, suppressing a hint of anger, and patted Lu Qingzhou's back with a slightly heavier slap, "It's okay, any man would have such thoughts."
Mu Shaohua's indulgence made Su Qingyao stomp her feet in frustration, "You'll spoil him rotten!"
"If I don't pamper the man in my family, who will?"
Mu Shaohua's words sent a jolt through Lu Qingzhou's heart, overwhelming him with a wave of guilt. He sobbed.
She uttered an even more absurd thought: "Sister Shaohua, am I guilty? I just thought of putting you, Qingyao, and Lengyue together..."
I don't know if it was genuine shame or the effect of alcohol,
The more Lu Qingzhou spoke, the more lewd, outrageous, and shameless he became!
Before he could finish speaking,
Finally, the girls could no longer suppress their shame and anger...
A slap, neither too hard nor too soft, landed on the back of his head.
Immediately afterwards,
Several warm fist and footprint marks landed on his body.
"Ouch...who kicked me in the groin...?"
"You're supposed to practice swordsmanship, but instead you're practicing vulgarity,"
"Smack!"
"Slap slap"... "Slap slap slap"
......
The next morning,
kitchen,
Mu Shaohua flipped her wrist and kneaded the dough, her fingertips covered in fine flour, like a thin layer of snow.
Su Qingyao stood to the side, deftly chopping scallions, the knife making a crisp sound as it struck the cutting board.
Leng Yue leaned against the door, her gaze fixed on the two's movements, her eyes filled with envy and longing.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes. She wanted to go forward and lend a hand, but she was afraid of making any more trouble, so she could only stand there awkwardly.
......
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