The moment Han Yu finished speaking, a soft laugh came from outside the window.
"Your memory's pretty good."
The window lattice shifted, and a slender figure silently landed inside the room.
Her silver dress trailed along the floor, her figure tall and graceful. Her eyes seemed to hold springwater, yet carried an innate sharpness.
It was Ling Yuan Douluo.
Once Gu Rong saw who it was, he tactfully rose to his feet.
"You two talk. This old man will make a round of patrols."
With that, he strode out and casually shut the door behind him.
The instant the door closed, Ling Yuan stepped forward, grabbed Han Yu by the collar, and pressed him against a pillar.
"It's been half a month. Did you miss me?"
Ling Yuan's voice was low and somewhat husky, though sparks seemed to dance in her eyes.
Before Han Yu could answer, her lips were already on his.
Who knew how long passed before Ling Yuan's loosened hair spilled over her shoulders, while her wrinkled silver dress lay tossed carelessly over the back of a chair.
She leaned against Han Yu's chest, tracing circles over it with her fingertip. Her voice held the lazy satisfaction of contentment.
"You little bastard, you make my legs go weak every time."
Han Yu played with a strand of her hair and chuckled.
"You were the one who pounced on me."
Ling Yuan snorted and punched him, so lightly that it was more like a tickle.
Ling Yuan turned over, resting her chin in the hollow of his shoulder. Then her tone abruptly changed.
"By the way, word has already spread through Spirit Hall about you forcing that Hundred-Thousand-Year Soft Bone Rabbit to sacrifice itself."
Han Yu's fingers paused.
"Oh?
What did Bibi Dong say?"
"What else could