Wen Ruoruo's expression changed from inexplicably melancholy to startled in an instant. She stared blankly at Yan Ying, looking lost.
Yan Ying touched her long, smooth hair and touched her neck with her fingertips. Her skin was slightly cold, "Why are you looking at me like this?" He also asked absentmindedly, entangled her in the thin quilt, wrapped Ruoruo into a rice dumpling, and covered her with it.
Live that snow-white to transparent skin.
"Brother Yan Yin, you are the most handsome man Ruoruo has ever seen." Even the celebrities who often appeared on TV in his previous life could not compare with him, Wen Ruoruo said honestly.
She blurted it out subconsciously, forgetting the etiquette and shyness. It might be inappropriate, but it was definitely a compliment from her heart.
The moonlight was so soft that it completely brought out Yan Ying's suave and noble temperament. The snow-white gown he changed into later in the evening was chic and elegant. How could such a man be a wretched assassin lurking in the palace with evil intentions? [
She has been making assumptions about Yan Ying's identity all this time. He himself has never said a word in response. Every time he listens to her wild nonsense, there is a doting smile on his lips.
Yan Ying raised his hand and gently stroked Ruoruo's tender cheek.
"Ruoruo is also very cute. As time goes by, when Ruoruo grows older, she may really turn into a beauty that will captivate the whole country." She comforted herself repeatedly in her heart. This inappropriate action was just an expression of her brother's love for her sister.
It has no other meaning.
The matter of choosing a husband for Ruoruo must be put on the agenda early. Which of the young talents, civil servants and military officials in the court can be worthy of the precious sister he has cared for for three years? This tangled question really needs to be answered.
After careful research, at least at this moment, Yan Ying did not suddenly think of a suitable candidate.
What's more, there was an inexplicable depression in his chest, and he was even more irritable than when he was counting the days and watching Yan Chuyao leave.
The faceless man in the fantasy, standing next to Wen Ruoruo and looking at him tenderly, actually aroused the desire to kill that he had indulged in for a long time.
Damn it, it turns out that he also inherited the old man's bloodlust, but it was just recessive and not so obvious.