Feng Yun did not struggle, her face pressed against Wen Xingsu's chest. She listened to his strong heartbeat, inhaled the scent of osmanthus cake emanating from him, and with heavy eyelids that drooped softly, she asked him:
"What's wrong?"
Wen Xingsu spoke softly, "Don't look back."
Behind Feng Yun on the river surface, a boat painted with tung oil and green lacquer appeared and disappeared in the thin mist. Its passengers, like them, wore no armor but were dressed like ordinary servants from scholar families.
A handsome young man in blue robes sat amid the servants.
Spotting their boat, the young master peeked out curiously...
In broad daylight, the man and woman on the rowboat clung tightly to each other. The petite girl lay prostrate before the tall man, who bowed his head and used his large sleeve to cover them, as if he were kissing her...
The handsome young master's face turned red, and he quickly withdrew.
Feng Yun heard the noise and instinctively raised her head.