However, Qingjun often resisted with a tense face in the second half of the night.

But now, thinking back carefully, Zhao Rong realized that she was actually half-compliant.

Otherwise, let alone Zhao Rong who is only one step away from reaching the Fuyao realm, who can force Qingjun?

She has a cold and fierce temperament, just like a sharp sword, which would rather break than bend.

Only he, Brother Rong'er, can be bad and bully her, but he can't go too far, otherwise she will feel despised and feel that she is not cherished and loved by him as her husband. This is what can really break Qingjun's heart.

What Qingjun cares about most is her position in his heart, which must be the highest, just like he is her sun.

Zhao Rong was very clear about this, and he was the same, regarding her as the bright moon in his heart.

Therefore, Zhao Rong always cared about Qingjun's feelings and kept a balance unless he couldn't help himself.

And in the second half of last night, after being bullied like that, I still joined him in making trouble and let him basically succeed. I guess it was also a way of compensating for the reluctance of my husband to leave soon.

Zhao Rong was daydreaming as he listened to the sound of rain, and at the same time, with a sense of guilt, he looked at the embroidered quilt where Concubine Zhao Ling had curled up.

He glanced at the blanket covering him.

Originally, the two of them slept on the same quilt last night, but later...

At that time, the first thunder sounded in the night outside the window, and heavy rain poured down, one after another, covering the white world.

Qingjun buried her head in the quilt, without even looking at Zhao Rong, she bent her slender legs and kicked him off the chaise longue.

However, Zhao Rong’s cultivation in the Heavenly Realm was not in vain, and it was not only reflected in this matter that could make Qingjun’s busy and tired heart tremble.

He came to his senses in an instant and quickly grabbed the slender ankle of Qingjun's limp left leg.

Zhao Rong lowered his head and took a closer look at the delicate toes. The row of curled little toes were naturally stained with pink nail polish, just like lovely cardamom. He lowered his head and pecked the white lotus feet with taut arches.

Qingjun's limp body suddenly stiffened, and without thinking, he bent his right leg. The next second, his greedy buttocks hurt, and he rolled off the bed.

She kicked him down, and he landed on the ground like a wild goose falling from the sand.

However, before Zhao Rong could react, Qingjun, who had just buried his head in the quilt and didn't want to pay attention to him, suddenly jumped up again with strength from nowhere.

She hurriedly got out of bed, helped Zhao Rong back onto the bed, and rubbed his kicked butt with her delicate hands.

However, seeing that he was still smiling foolishly, Qingjun's pretty face showed a mixture of heartache and anger.

She pushed him hard on the chest with both hands and threw him back to the **.

Zhao Rong took a breath and rubbed the wound, then turned his head to look.

Then, what came into view was Qingjun standing in front of the bed in the darkness, wearing a purple bellyband.

She turned her back, took out her handkerchief, raised her bare hands, and carefully wiped her pretty face and red lips. The Adam's apple on the flat part of her swan-like round neck seemed to have swallowed saliva.

Qingjun raised her nose, as if she was tired and thirsty. She was very thirsty and felt her cheeks, lips and throat burning.

She picked up the cup of tea beside her, raised her head and drank it all in one gulp. She patted her chest with her bare hands, and her breasts rose and fell for a while. She took a few deep breaths to smell the fragrance.

Afterwards, after wiping her red cheeks and fragrant cheeks with the handkerchief several more times, Qingjun raised her hand angrily, ready to throw the handkerchief, which was stained with unknown color, at him, but she stopped halfway.

Qingjun retracted her hand and carefully hid the dirty handkerchief in her arms.

Later, she pulled out a thick blanket and threw it heavily on Zhao Rong's smiling face.

Qingjun was so ashamed and angry that she pushed aside her rogue husband who had done something wrong and dared to smile at her evilly.

Then, the slender body with frosty and blushing skin crawled into the embroidered quilt, hid in her little world, slept and rested, and no longer paid attention to him.

Concubine Ling of Zhao drove Zhao Rong out of the warm bed and slept until early morning.

At this moment, hearing the sound of rain gradually decreasing and the sound of birds gradually increasing in the yard, Zhao Rong lifted the blanket on his body and got up.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

He turned around and looked at the bulging, oval embroidered quilt again. Seeing that his wife was still hiding, he couldn't help but slap his forehead.

Zhao Rong suddenly had an idea and his movements stopped for an instant.

He carefully looked up and down at the embroidered bedding that contained the fragrant Qingjun, and it seemed that it was not covered tightly enough.

So he reached out his hand tentatively, grabbed a corner of the quilt, and lifted it up. Then... Zhao Rong actually lifted some of the quilt and there was no hindrance.

He stopped and didn't continue lifting it.

Does my wife like to sleep in, or has she calmed down?

Zhao Rong thought for a moment, "Qing... Jun?"

Concubine Zhao Ling ignored him and didn't know whether she fell asleep or not.

Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows slightly.

He did not move immediately, but turned his head to look at the closed windows in the boudoir.

I was half asleep just now and didn't hear the bells in Duyou City, but now it seems that it is still early in the morning.

I guess there wouldn't be any maids or servants who would be so tactless as to come to the backyard and disturb the master and mistress' sleep.

Wutong Street is a street for nobles, but it is not in a busy area. Outside at this moment, except for the particularly lonely chirping of birds in the yard, there is no sound of the clever little Qian'er.

If he guessed correctly, the lady was only wearing a purple bellyband and silk underpants under the quilt.

There are beautiful things hidden in the quilt, black hair, fragrant shoulders, beautiful back, slender waist, frosty white calves, delicate jade feet and so on.

Qingjun was skeptical, then he tried it and found out...it was true, so he solved it reluctantly.

In fact, at that time, he wanted to tell Qingjun seriously that if he felt cooler, he could learn another set of skills.

As for the purple bag on his body, Zhao Rong was helpless.

Zhao Rong actually tried to reach out and untie the purple bellyband ribbon tied into a bow around her swan-like neck. After all, the sight of it dangling in front of Zhao Rong's eyes made him feel itchy.

However, even though Zhao Rong had a pair of skillful hands, he could not untie this charming bow.

Because... that is a pure illusion.

Every time Zhao Rong untied the knot a little, Qing Jing, his adopted daughter, would disintegrate into a ball of purple air, as soft as silk wrapped around fingers, and then tie it into a bow again, protecting her future brother's cafeteria.

Therefore, Zhao Rong could not take off the purple hat, let alone get the soft jade that he had been thinking about day and night.

Zhao Rong shook his head and sighed.

At this moment, in the quiet boudoir, a faint fragrance is floating in the air.

Zhao Rong, lying on the bed, quietly felt the atmosphere of this early morning when everything was flourishing. He turned his head and glanced at the gap in the embroidered quilt that had been lifted up.

He nodded seriously.

The next second, he moved as fast as a rabbit and dived into the quilt. He embraced the slender body hidden in the quilt and felt her warmth and softness in his arms.

"Hmm."

"Sweetheart." Zhao Rong said jokingly, but couldn't help laughing. He lowered his head and planted a strawberry on her fair forehead, then turned and said seriously in her ear:

"Don't sleep, this time Brother Rong'er promises not to press your little head..."

As he spoke, he tightened his arms around the beauty in his arms, but was stunned the next second. Hey, Qingjun is wearing too much, and... why has she become petite? The same goes for his son's cafeteria!

Before Zhao Rong could react, Zhao Qian'er in his arms raised her little head happily and said happily: "Brother Rong'er, are we going to kiss behind Miss's back?"

Zhao Rong opened his eyes, "???"

Zhao Qian'er was shy and happy. She hugged Zhao Rong with her two thin arms and her round and slender legs.

The little girl clung to Zhao Rong, who was holding her in a daze, like an octopus. She tilted her head and thought for a while. She closed her peach blossom eyes, raised her little chin towards Zhao Rong again, her pink lips slightly opened, and her little face was flushed.

A look of anticipation.

"..."Zhao Rong.

How come you appear from nowhere?

Facing Xiao Qian'er, who always wanted to steal the girl's boyfriend and seduce the boy-in-law, he suddenly had a blank expression on his face. The next second, he raised his big hand, pressed down, and pushed her raised head back down.

Zhao Qian'er pouted in protest, "Uh-huh, Brother Rong'er, didn't you just promise not to press my little head?"

Zhao Rong did not reply, but quickly loosened his hand, pulled away the little girl who was clinging to his body like a slug, jumped off the bed, quickly put on his clothes, and looked around at the boudoir where his wife was no longer there.

I don't know when she quietly got up and left when he was sleeping soundly, and when Qian'er, the mischievous girl, got into bed.

Xiao Qian'er poked her head out of the quilt, squinted her peach blossom eyes, revealed a vengeful look, and threatened in a soft voice:

"Brother Rong'er, don't run away. I'll tell Miss later. Qian'er came to wake you up, but you hugged me forcefully, kissed me secretly, and called me Little Sweetie... You, you come back... Ouch!"

Zhao Rong suddenly turned around, bent two fingers of his right hand, and planted two more chestnuts on her little head where strawberries were mistakenly planted. "Are you still making trouble?"

"Wow." Zhao Qian'er covered her red forehead with her two little hands and glared at Brother Rong'er with a look that was both aggrieved and fierce.

Zhao Rong shook his head speechlessly, and stretched out his hand to rub her loose bun hair. "I'm sorry, I recognized the wrong person just now. Stop it, Qian'er, I have something important to do today, so I'm leaving first."

After he finished speaking, he strode out of Qingjun's boudoir.

Zhao Qian'er's mouth puffed up into a bun, and she looked unhappily at the departing back of Brother Rong'er, who had a wicked and anxious look on his face one second and a serious and abstinent look the next.

At a certain moment, she tilted her head, frowned, tapped her pink lips with her index finger, and muttered something.

"I promise not to press your little head. Hey, why is Brother Rong'er pressing Miss's head..."

The little girl shook her head in confusion and prepared to go back and ask the young lady.

She sat on the edge of the bed, used her toes to hook out the embroidered shoes hidden under the bed, and jumped off the bed holding the shoes with her little feet.

Zhao Qian'er turned her head, shrugged her nose, and sniffed a faint scent.

I don't know what she was thinking about, her face turned red, and she spat softly, "Young couple, you have no shame..."

Immediately, the little girl turned around and chased Zhao Rong.