After packing up the clothes, he turned around and picked her up in his arms.
"Let's go, my dear wife."
He opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing in, chillingly cold.
"Hey, what if somebody sees?" Jian Qing wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning.
This was not their home, where patrolling staff or servants could pass by at any moment.
"What's there to be afraid of, we're married, who would dare object?"
Sturdy arms held her, the warmth of his embrace making Jian Qing sentimental. She glanced around, found no one nearby, so she played along.
The cherry blossoms at the end of February were blooming splendidly, stunning enough to intoxicate.
The cool breeze came, causing a shower of cherry blossoms, leaving a faint lingering fragrance.
Jian Qing stretched out her hand, a petal falling into her palm, rosy white in color, soft and with a hint of chilliness.
She pursed her lips, her eyes curving; there was a hint of softness in her expression.
