Zhao Rong's heart replayed the awkwardness of Qing Jun on tiptoes to kiss him in the deep bamboo groves of Xizhu Garden yesterday, and the tenderness of her lowering her head afterward.
There were also countless nights on the road to Du You City, where little Qian'er slept in his arms, whether dreaming or waking, confused or delighted, exclaiming the naive words, "Zhao Lang, Zhao Lang, I have my Zhao Lang now."
Zhao Rong's lips were tightly sealed.
The affection from Qing Jun and little Qian'er was already enough for him to repay in a lifetime.
