Before dawn, the woman walked out from the Qian Residence.
She gave Dongfang Mosheng a bow.
"Thank you so much, Ninth Prince, for accommodating me."
"I have fulfilled all your requests. Now it's time for you to repay the favor. Remember the promise you made me back then."
Dongfang Mosheng's eyes, obscured by a haze, remained undisturbed.
The woman acquiesced and left in a horse carriage.
Dongfang Li didn't get up until noon; his head was pounding. He had drunk too much the night before and seemed to have dreamt of Feng Bailing, with one intense, passionate encounter after another.
But alas, a dream is just a dream.
The door opened, and Dongfang Mosheng entered with a bowl of hangover soup in his hands.
"Last night, I—forget it, it's not worth mentioning."
Dreaming of Feng Bailing—what does it change? She is married to someone else, and I still have to marry the detestable Princess Anyang.
