How things escalated during the bath, how they ended up from the bathtub to their new bed, half-dazed and bewildered, Feng Qingxue couldn't remember.
Between consciousness and slumber, sweating profusely, all she remembered was Lu Jiang's incredible stamina. It didn't seem like he was injured at all. The bandages wrapped around his limbs didn't hinder his caresses.
Exhausted before sleep, under the faint light of the bedside lamp, all she saw was the satisfied expression on Lu Jiang's face.
As smug as a cat that'd just stolen some fish.
Feng Qingxue, who woke up later than usual, blushed as much as a bride.
Her sore and fatigued body kept reminding her of the night before; everything was like a vivid replay. Such wild and private affairs, which she had never experienced before in her past or present life until yesterday.