Zhao Changhe was not sure if he was growing old or growing young. Somehow, the act of caressing Yue Hongling’s face had turned into him leaning against her chest, being comforted like a child, and feeling entirely at peace.0

Being near her always gave him a strange sense of security. He had spent so much time worrying about her wandering the world alone, and now, even though he was clearly stronger, leaning against her made him feel inexplicably safe.0

Strange, her chest isn’t even bigger than Lady Three’s. They’re just… average.1

If this was what aging felt like, it was peculiar. After all, here he was, resting in her warm embrace, and not a single improper thought crossed his mind.0

To be honest, that had not always been the case. In the past, no matter how much he expressed his respect for Yue Hongling or how adamantly he claimed to have no dishonorable thoughts, there had always been a faint undercurrent of desire deep down. After all, he was a man. Any man would understand.0

But...0