Long Xuanmo's heart ached fiercely when he detected the momentary pause in Yang Mengchen's words, but he did not point it out. Instead, he gazed at her with grievance swirling in his eyes, "Ah Jiu, March 15th is my birthday. You need to make it up to me."
"Birthday?" Seeing Long Xuanmo nod, Yang Mengchen asked doubtfully, "Shouldn't the Empress and others have already celebrated your birthday, Prince? Why do you need to make it up?"
Indeed, the Eldest Princess and Yingtong had mentioned not long ago that March 15th was Long Xuanmo's seventeenth birthday. They had sent gifts back to The Capital in advance along with Long YiXuan. At that time, she too had sent him a spring cypress—oh, the very one Long Xuanmo was wearing now.
Long Xuanmo shook his head, "It's meaningless; I want to spend my birthday with Ah Jiu."
