Feng Qing grabbed the cloth used for face washing from the wooden basin and roughly wiped Rong Ling's face.
Rong Ling almost lost his breath, and after managing to catch it back, he glared at Feng Qing and said, "Are you trying to murder your own husband?"
Feng Qing looked at Rong Ling with a fake smile and said, "What are you saying, Prince? I'm still waiting to consummate our marriage, why would I murder my husband."
Rong Ling's eyes narrowed dangerously as coldness spread in his pupils. Slowly, he spoke, "Are you unhappy? Unhappy about what? Unhappy that this consummation was something you bartered your merits for, or is it something else?"
Rong Ling's health was already not good, and combined with being tossed onto the bed by Feng Qing, after saying two sentences, his spirit waned. His vision darkened, and he fell into a deep sleep.
