Aoying looked up at the man, not understanding what he meant by that.

Why should he protect her? No one is bullying her.

Could it be that after he stands up again, the thing he wants to do most is to protect her?

Meng Zhao lowered his eyes and stared at the girl's round almond eyes, and said seriously: "Aoying, from now on, I will not let anyone take you away from me again."

Meng Zhao was still upset about the fact that Meng Xun took Aoying away directly from him when Aoying fainted.

Meng Zhao felt very powerless and decadent at the time, watching his beloved woman being taken away by others, but he was powerless to do anything.

Now he finally has healthy limbs, and can easily pick up Aoying, and in the future he can also use his tall body to protect her from wind and rain.

Qingying had long forgotten about this incident that had bothered Meng Zhao for so long.

She never thought that Meng Zhao would always hold a grudge against Meng Xun because of this incident.

She did not quite understand the possessiveness between men.

Meng Zhao's legs had almost recovered, and he walked like an ordinary person, with a steady step and fluttering clothes. He had regained his elegant appearance.

However, he was still unable to run and climb vigorously, and still needed to recuperate for a while before he could recover to his original appearance.

Seeing that Meng Zhao had recovered so well, Qingying's heart gradually settled down. Now

that he was well, she could leave with peace of mind.

*

That night.

The candles flickered in the room, and Meng Zhao leaned against the bed railings to read a book.

It was getting late, Qingying spread out the bedding and urged him to go to bed: "Young Master, read it tomorrow, it's time to rest."

"Okay."

Meng Zhao closed the book and handed it to Qingying.

Qingying took the book, turned around and put it back on the bookshelf.

Then, she walked back to the bed, looked at Meng Zhao lying on the bed, and asked softly: "Young Master, your legs are healed, do you still feel cold at night? If not, I will go back to sleep on the soft couch and leave the bed for you. You don't have to squeeze with me, and you can sleep more comfortably at night."

Meng Zhao frowned slightly, with a slightly unhappy look on his face. He didn't understand why Qingying always wanted to stay away from him.

These days, he could feel that she was so worried about him, which showed that she had him in her heart.

Since she has him in her heart, why doesn't she want to be closer to him? Instead, she always wants to sleep on that cold, hard couch.

Meng Zhao didn't know what was so good about that hard, small wooden couch that made Qingying so fond of it.

Meng Zhao grabbed Qingying's slender wrist, as if afraid that she would suddenly run away. He lied calmly: "Of course I still feel cold, you have to continue to warm me for a while."

"Yes."

Qingying took off her shoes and socks, climbed onto the bed, and lay down obediently inside.

Meng Zhao tilted his head and looked at the girl lying quietly beside him. He asked, "Aoying, isn't my big bed uncomfortable to sleep on?"

Meng Zhao's bed was very spacious, and the bedding was made of the finest velvet, which was silky, soft, warm and thick. It was naturally comfortable to sleep on such a big bed.

Qingying nodded: "The eldest master's bed is very soft and very comfortable to sleep on."

"Since it is comfortable, then you are allowed to sleep on my bed from now on."

Meng Zhao said, and suddenly turned over and pressed Qingying under him. He looked at the girl under him steadily and said in a semi-commanding tone: "Qingying, do you understand? Don't say you want to sleep on the soft couch again in the future."

The man's body was tall and straight. When he pressed down, an invisible sense of oppression immediately hit Qingying's face, causing her to shrink back uncomfortably.

She nodded and replied respectfully: "I understand, and I won't say it again in the future."

After Qingying finished speaking, Meng Zhao still pressed on her, without any sign of turning over.

The man's weight was not light, and it made Qingying feel a little uncomfortable to be pressed on top like this.

And this posture is too ambiguous, with their hips pressed together, which is awkward.

Qingying stretched out her little hand and pushed Meng Zhao's chest, whispering: "Master, I understand, can you get down now?"