An Yi avoided it shyly and whispered: "Didn't you kiss enough last night?"
"Where is enough?" Feng Qingchen said sweetly, holding An Yi's waist, "The clouds on the temples are beautiful and golden, and the hibiscus tent warms the spring night.
The spring night is short and the sun is high, and from now on the king will not go to court early. I finally understand the meaning of the poem you read that day! "
An Yi was startled and said in a low voice: "This poem is unlucky. Don't read it. Change it to a more festive one. The flowers bloom and butterflies fly together. Mandarin ducks live alone by the lamp."
The red sun is halfway through the window and the joy is not enough. We listen to the orioles singing on our pillows. "
Feng Qingchen followed the words, hugged An Yi's soft and delicate body, and moved up with her tall body, pressing her whole body against the door and said with a low voice: "Okay, husband, remember it, I will come back that night How about listening to my lady's crow?"
An Yi was so aroused by the man that she hurriedly urged him to leave: "Hurry up, or you'll be late!"
Like an unsatisfied kitten, Feng Qingchen lowered her head again and sniffed An Yi's hair.
His hot breath gently hit the woman's collarbone, and the hot breath was filled with the fragrance of snow pear flowers, which captivated the soul.
An Yi couldn't bear it and whispered: "Stop making trouble, I squeezed goat's milk yesterday, and I plan to make you a new snack today..."
Before An Yi finished speaking, he was carried into the room by the man. An Yi couldn't help but scream.
"Keep your voice down, and soon everyone in the palace will know what we are doing!" Feng Qingchen hugged the woman's soft body, feeling so ecstasy that she was unwilling to leave. She whispered, "It's a festival today. It’s okay to miss one day of going to the Yamen!”
An Yi couldn't help but push him: "Don't worry at this moment, there is still night..."
"Let's talk in the evening!" Feng Qingchen whispered, with a pair of evil eyes, "As long as the wife needs it, I will go through fire and water for my husband at all costs!"
An Yi was speechless. When did she need him? Who refuses to go to work in the Yamen?
"I have to put on my clothes again, troublesome..." An Yi couldn't help but mumbled helplessly. She had finally arranged the clothes for him...
At this moment, Mrs. Chen poked her head, looked back and asked Mrs. Liu Sun, "Mom, I just saw Lanhua and Thirteen going out, why did they go back again?"
Liu Sun glared at Chen: "Don't meddle in other people's business!"
Mrs. Liu covered her mouth and smiled, then stepped forward in a low voice and said, "Sister-in-law, what do you think?"
Only then did Mrs. Chen react, with envy on her face: "It would be great if my Dazhu was so attached to me!"
Mrs. Liu blushed: "Sister-in-law is not ashamed either!"
Mrs. Chen chuckled, looked at the sun, and then at the closed door, feeling really envious.
After being pestered all morning, An Yi finally remembered the milk she squeezed yesterday and quickly got up to get dressed.
"What are you going to do?" Feng Qingchen lazily raised her slender but strong arms and asked, "Just eat what your mother cooked for lunch!"
An Yi waved his hand: "I'm planning to make milk dates for Xiaodouzi today. I squeezed goat's milk last night. The weather is so hot, so don't spoil it!"
Feng Qingchen sighed and had no choice but to get up resigned to his fate. He planned to stay away all day today!
An Yi hurriedly ran into the small kitchen. In the small kitchen, Mrs. Liu Sun was taking Mrs. Chen and Mrs. Liu to prepare lunch.
"What do you want to eat, Thirteen?" Liu Sun asked casually, "Eat something simple for lunch today, and cook more dishes in the evening!"
Anyi didn't care about that and just looked at the ceramic jar. Unfortunately, the goat milk was spoiled.
Xiaodouzi has been studying mysticism very hard these days, but he just doesn't like eating dried fruits. An Yi originally planned to use goat milk, dried dates and walnuts to make milk dates to supplement Xiaodouzi's brain. Who knew that this trouble would be delayed? .
