This was a sudden "assault."
Zhao Rong was somewhat caught off guard.
Because according to the plan they had discussed earlier, there was no such arrangement.
He had only told Su Xiaoxiao that when the time came, they just needed to get closer and act more affectionately.
So this was her "taking initiatives."
This little hand.
Slim as tender shoots, skin smooth as congealed fat.
Ice-cold like jade bones, naturally cool without sweat.
Thus, Zhao Rong's first impression was slightly chilly.
His heart fluttered, and subconsciously giving a gentle pinch, he then continuously felt a soft touch.
Zhao Rong was aware of the gazes of the people around him, and thinking about their current identities and situation, he continued holding on without pulling away.
Soon after, Zhao Rong, with a smile hanging on his lips, turned his head to survey Great Wei Imperial Palace.
Next to him, Su Xiaoxiao's petite face was veiled with a layer of purple gauze.