Zhao Changhe could hardly remember what he had eaten during the meal, so enchanted and distracted by the languid atmosphere that he had paid no attention to the food itself. He could only recall that the little rabbit’s soft, warm curves had been remarkably similar to the rabbit-shaped steamed buns on the table. In the end, he could not tell which one he had devoured.0

In any case, both were delightful.0

But in the end, nothing truly improper happened. It was not the right time or place.0

For all the talk of being a “conqueror,” he was just one man, and not in peak condition. At a time like this, Cui Wenjing was not going to expend effort protecting his safety. Within the vast Cui Clan, how many dissenters were lying in wait? Could someone try to assassinate him while he was distracted? Might Desolate Calamity return to make another attempt? These uncertainties lingered.0

Flirting and teasing was fine, but indulging completely? That would be foolish. A single misstep, and he’d find himself in the afterlife exchanging notes with his dear Chancellor Cao. This was no way to handle things.0

Patience was key. When the wedding came, the Cui Clan’s elite would undoubtedly...0