Yecheng looked down at Qiao Rubing, who was sleeping quietly and sweetly in his arms. A soft color flashed in his eyes. He murmured, "Damn an egg, am I a fool? Forcibly, alas, smart and confused for a while, how can I feel that this long night is not romantic at all?"

The next day, just after dawn, there was a little mist in the dense forest. It hit my face wet and cold. Yecheng opened his eyes diffusely and took a deep breath. The cold air penetrated into Yecheng's nostrils fiercely. The cool air made Yecheng look more energetic.

"Damn, Lao Tzu is really a genius. He can only...