"Alright, alright, I'll say no more. I won't disturb you two and your private little world. I'll come find you later."
The woman extended a jade-like finger and lightly tapped Zhuang Yuechan's smooth forehead, then gracefully rose and walked toward the door. As she passed Song Changsheng, she paused briefly, a cryptic smile on her face.
Even before she drew near, Song Changsheng had caught a faint, unusual fragrance. Long after she was gone, the scent still lingered, refusing to fade.
Song Changsheng watched her leave, a sense of vigilance rising within him. 'This woman is like a rose with thorns—beautiful and dangerous.'
The moment he turned back, a soft body threw itself into his arms. Breathing in the lovely fragrance emanating from the beauty in his arms, Song Changsheng's own arms tightened, as if he wanted to merge her into his very being.
After a long while, the two reluctantly separated and sat down at the stone table in the courtyard.
