People's impression of Zhao Changhe still deviated slightly from reality.
When there was no one lurking around, the imagined Ma Zhen did not exist either. Zhao Changhe was neither accustomed to nor fond of such open behaviors.
When he honestly flew halfway and let Wuzhui rest, they dined and stayed at a town inn. They rented a room and slept together, which accounted for his contribution to the public.
After all, Wuzhui was not a flying machine. It couldn't just go wherever one wanted on command. As a horse, it needed to eat and rest. When it rested, there was nothing else to do, so it was only logical to engage in pleasurable activities.
What was thought to be a public contribution turned out to be his own craving. The previous languor had nothing to do with being an old couple just holding hands; their emotions were still as intense and unrestrained, wishing they could just meld into each other.
