Lu Yuan had a long dream that night.
In his dream, he returned to the days at the Prime Minister's Mansion, recounting his grievances to someone in detail.
What was laughable was that he knew it was a dream.
Because only in dreams did he dare to feel wronged. Once he opened his eyes, he didn't even have the right to think about such things.
When Lu Yuan woke up, daylight had already broken.
He found himself unable to move, wrapped tightly in soft Xiangyun Sha, like a silkworm cocoon.
Not only that, but he also seemed to be lying in an incomparably fragrant and tender embrace. A pair of delicate, fair arms gently encircled him, with a chin resting lightly against his forehead. Warm breaths landed on his cheeks, little by little, reminiscent of the gentle spring breeze brushing against one's face under the radiant sun.
Lu Yuan's lashes fluttered slightly.