Inside the room, when Feng Ming woke from her sleep, she discovered that the two of them still had done nothing.
Yet while washing up and dressing, for reasons she herself did not understand, Feng Ming suddenly began applying floral yellow makeup before the bronze mirror in this tiny boudoir. With a curl of her lips, she even dabbed a little rouge onto her cheeks.
In this state, she no longer looked like Wutong Pavilion's foremost female general, decisive and ruthless in battle. Instead, she truly had a touch of a young maiden's charming liveliness.
At least, as Qin Jiuge sat by the bed and admired Feng Ming's lovely appearance, he was quite approving, nodding repeatedly. "Not bad."
Qin Jiuge uttered those two words.
The corners of Feng Ming's lips lifted, and a trace of delight appeared on her face. But her awkward temperament meant that most of the time, she could not bring herself to accept praise graciously, so she retorted directly, "This lady doesn't need your praise."
"Yes, yes, yes."
Qin Jiuge chuckled and rose to leave the room first, utterly failing to notice just how despondent Feng Ming looked as she followed behind him.
She wished she could slap herself across the face. Muttering to herself, she said with utter conflict, "Feng Ming, you little girl, what exactly are you thinking?
The dignified Qin Family Divine Son has already shown you some interest. What more do you want?
Do you expect him to place everything right before you?
Why is your face so thick?"
Feng Ming muttered under her breath, her brows and eyes full of regret over her earlier words and actions. It seemed that if she were given another chance—
she would definitely turn the tables.
After leaving the room, they found not a single