Three days.
A full three days.
Fang Mo felt he had gained a bone-deep understanding of the saying, "A land of tenderness is a hero's grave."
When Guan Lu blushed and slipped into his bed, he had still thought that, as a mighty expert of the Eight Desolations Ancestral Dragon Realm, what was this little scene to him?
Later, when Yue Quan bit her lip and blocked him at the bathroom door, he was still brimming with confidence.
But when Luo Jiangyan held a wineglass and said with rippling eyes, "It's my turn today"...
Fang Mo finally realized something.
The three women seemed to have discussed it beforehand. They had arranged his schedule down to the last detail and simply refused to let him rest.
"Xiao Mo, what's wrong with you?"
When Guan Lu saw him emerge that morning holding his waist, she asked with an innocent expression.
Fang Mo waved a hand, forcing himself to keep up appearances. "Nothing. Cultivation was a little tiring."
Yue Quan covered her mouth and giggled beside him. "Really? Then your 'cultivation' last night was awfully noisy. I could hear it from next door."
The corner of Fang Mo's mouth twitched. As if you were idle yourself.
At that moment, Luo Jiangyan brought over a bowl of soup and set it before him without changing her expression. "Have some. Replenish yourself."
Fang Mo looked at the bowl of soup, then at the barely concealed smugness on the three women's faces, and finally understood.
They had done it on purpose.
All that talk about "a long-awaited reunion" and "missing you" had been excuses.
They were treating him like an ox.
"You..." Fang Mo held the bowl, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
An Eight Desolations Ancestral Dragon Realm expert could destroy heaven-reaching beasts and