Zhao Lingfei had not expected Zhao Rong to have been listening in from behind all this time, nor had she expected that the "little Daoist" Tao Yuanran had referred to was her own husband.
But at that moment, she could not afford to think about these things, because... Zhao Rong's actions were too intimate.
At this point, Zhao Rong was fixing Zhao Lingfei's hair, and the two of them were already extremely close, face to face. He leaned slightly forward, which meant they were almost touching.
Zhao Lingfei was practically in Zhao Rong's arms. She looked up, her eyes slightly turned upwards, reflecting his calm face and the hand raised to pick a leaf out.
They were surrounded by watchful eyes and the playful laughter of an elderly man in the pavilion.
The next second, Zhao Lingfei looked down, not daring to meet her husband's gaze, and even leaned her upper body slightly back, trying to distance herself from the warm embrace that made her cheeks flush.
"Don't move."
