Deng Yuyuan furrowed her brow slightly. "You clearly saw me, so why are you hiding, Little Ci? What, you've only been in Beijing for a short while and it's already gone to your head? Don't want to hang out with me anymore?"
"Player, this man's words and actions are timid and unrefined. He lacks elegance and is only fit to be an unpresentable concubine."
Deng Yuyuan was bewildered.
"Did you leave your brain behind in the Feudal Dynasty along with Zhao Mingzhao?" she muttered.
She wanted to open his bag to see what was inside. Zhang Ci Hao instinctively reached out and grasped Deng Yuyuan's fair, slender wrist. He moved fast, but his grip was incredibly gentle. His gaze darted away, dodging hers, before settling on her rosy, parted lips. A deeper blush spread across his slightly weathered face.
