"I feel terrible..."
The young girl gripped Xue Ling's collar tightly, writhing uneasily in his arms. Her disheveled black hair tangled with the golden hairpin, lashes damp and dense, casting shadows over the brilliance of summer. Her small face was flush with an extraordinary crimson hue, enchanting in its allure.
Xue Ling wasn't doing much better himself.
He had drunk more iced tea than Xue Mianmian, and now that the heat surged up, he couldn't help but irritably loosen his collar.
But the restless little one in his arms would not stay still, rubbing her burning cheeks against his palm incessantly, like a spoiled kitten.
After all, this was the Imperial Palace, and Xue Ling wasn't willing to act rashly in such a place.
With a large hand, he clasped Xue Mianmian's entire face, his tone tinged with frustration: "Xue Mianmian, settle down already!"
But the fingertips clutching Xue Ling's collar had already turned a delicate shade of dusky pink.
