At eight in the evening, after dinner, Yang Fan embraced Murong Yan with both hands. The two of them stood on the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze as they talked softly and pleasantly.
Yang Fan whispered in Murong Yan's ear, resting his chin on her shoulder, inhaling the fragrance of her black hair.
The bright moon hung high in the sky, and the lights twinkled, with only faint sounds occasionally reaching their ears.
"Dear, do you think you were my wife in a past life too?"
A sudden odd question. Murong Yan thought for a moment before answering, "No, you were probably a servant in my family."
"And you were a wealthy lady, I assume?"
"Of course, that's just fate."
"I refuse to accept it. I want to rebel."
"Have you thought it through? Rebelling is a capital offense!"
Yang Fan laughed and shook his head. "The death penalty can be avoided, but not the living penalty. Send me to warm your bed, then."
"In your dreams..."
