Feng Yun's face, tender as white tofu, turned faintly red due to his brusqueness.
She did not move.
Her eyes fixed on him.
The weather was overcast today, and the light in the room flickered between brightness and shadow, preventing her from seeing the man clearly.
"To anger Xiao San, this indeed is the best strategy," Pei Jue grabbed her hand, placing it on himself, his voice husky, "Does my lady not want to revel in pleasure with me?"
"The plan is feasible," Feng Yun struggled in vain, bit him on his neck, and then smiled with satisfaction, her eyes enchantingly beautiful.
"It's obviously a matter of mutual consent, General," she said smoothly, "why make a fuss over nothing?"
She agreed readily, but Pei Jue's face showed no joy, his deep eyes darker still, seeming to harbor a bundle of light, like the ghostly fire of a rainy day, enigmatic and unpredictable.
But it was apparent that his patience was wearing thin.
"Truly unwilling to enter my rear palace?"
