Pei Zhan extended his long arm, pulling her to his chest: "This room is filled with Prince Rong's ancestors, he wouldn't dare set it on fire. Besides, there's also me."
Lost in thought, Fu Zhen didn't guard herself, and leaned against his chest. This broad embrace gave a momentary daze.
Fu Zhen was determined not to be swayed by charm, and quickly pressed against his leg, glaring up: "What are you doing? The enemy is at the gate, what are you thinking about!"
"Thinking about my wife." Pei Zhan rested his chin on her shoulder, looking through the gap between the ranks, his eyes on the arrogant Princess Rong and Xu Yin on the other side, speaking with a voice as lazy as watching a play from the audience, "No matter how fiercely they fight, it doesn't stop me from thinking about my wife."
Fu Zhen turned her head, looking at him as if he were an idiot: "Who is your wife?!"
