Feng Ji had been thinking about how to climb into His Majesty's bed since he had regained his memory, but Long Zhen made him sleep on the sofa instead, deliberately blocking him with words, "You were the one who scorned me before, and now? No chance!"
Feng Ji looked pitifully, licking his lips, "Zhenzhen, was I wrong?"
"Hmph."
Long Zhen remained unmoved, tossing him toward the sofa before she herself ran into the room and crawled into the icy bed, instantly feeling some regret.
Although it was already the end of March, the night was still a bit chilly; she was in urgent need of a warm pillow.
But since she had already sent Feng Ji to sleep in the living room, how could she have the nerve to call him back?
Forget it, forget it, it would warm up after a while.
She turned over, yet found herself tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Now her mind was filled with visions of Feng Ji's handsome, delicate face, beguiling her with the charm of a bewitching spirit.
