Sheng Qiyue pursed her lips: "Is this really okay?"
"It's okay." Jimo Yuan had suffered great hardships in order to learn martial arts since he was a child. This kind of injury could only be considered a minor one. Apart from hindering his walking, he didn't even blink an eye.
"Okay then." Sheng Qiyue said, "How about we go to the room? There's a big window over there where you can enjoy the night breeze, the view, and it's also convenient for you to rest."
Jimo Yuan had no reason to refuse.
Lying on the spacious bed, Sheng Qiyue leaned on his chest and fell asleep soon.
He lay straight like this all night.
The next morning, the pleasure boat docked. Sheng Qiyue was woken up by Jimo Yuan. She looked at him with misty eyes, "Are we going back?"
Jimo Yuan nodded, his eyes inadvertently catching a glimpse of the corner under her messy clothes, and the tip of her ear was a little red.
Sheng Qiyue simply washed up and habitually reached out for a hug. Thinking of the young master's injured leg, she was about to withdraw her hand, but was picked up by Jimo Yuan.
She exclaimed and subconsciously hugged his neck.
The two were very close and could feel each other's warm breath. Jimo Yuan's face turned red under the mask.
Sheng Qiyue hurriedly said, "Master, you can't do this. Your foot is injured. Put me down quickly."
No? Jimo Yuan didn't like these two words. He held her tightly, feeling that she was light and soft, and her body was fragrant.
Finally, he saw the carriage parked by the Moon Lake. It was the one mentioned in the information that was used exclusively by He Wenmao, so he carried Sheng Qiyue up.
On the way back, Jimo Yuan lifted the car curtain and looked at the officers and soldiers outside rushing in and out of the clinic, his eyes full of deep sorrow.
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