The night was serene, and their love had just begun.
In another bedroom, Feng Fanghua changed out of the cheongsam designed by Qin Mu at Mu Zihao’s request.
Feng Fanghua’s figure had always been well-maintained, and as a typical Eastern beauty, the purple cheongsam showcased her excellent physique to perfection.
She turned around twice, looking downwards at her waist and legs, and gently touched the fabric across her chest. It was the work of a skillful person; the texture was utterly authentic. Feng Fanghua, having worn so many expensive cheongsams, naturally knew this.
"This girl does have some talent."
"More than that, even the color and thread used for these delicate patterns that are embroidered on it are on par with our domestic luxury brands."
"Is it really that good?"
Feng Fanghua turned to look at him, skeptical.
"Humph, don’t believe me? Try wearing this cheongsam to the charity banquet in a few days and listen to what those critical madams have to say."
"If it ends up being embarrassing, don’t blame me for falling out with that girl ruthlessly."
Mu Zihao sat confidently in the chair by the bed with a smile: "Come find me then."
"Humph, you think I wouldn’t dare to?"
Feng Fanghua’s eyebrows raised. For many years, the two had interacted in this manner, and unbeknownst to her, Mu Zihao had long grown accustomed to her way of speaking.
Later, Feng Fanghua changed into her pajamas but still meticulously folded the cheongsam, her hands involuntarily caressing the stitching.
Qin Mu had said it was handmade by her.
Mu Zihao looked at Feng Fanghua’s expression and couldn’t help but sigh, recalling the time when he and Feng Fanghua had abruptly told Qin Mu to leave, which had been rather inappropriate.
And she left without saying a word; there was no questioning or blaming, which made him feel deeply guilty.
Latterly, Jing Xianzong had still cut off business with his son, and now there was dealings between the Jing Family and his family, but the relationship had deteriorated from before.
Even outsiders, knowing about Mu Yi’s and Qin Mu’s affair, speculated that the Jing Family and the Mu Family would fall out, so rumors were spreading that the two families were going to break up. Under such circumstances, their relationship was deteriorating day by day.
In their hearts, they also felt the connection with the Jing Family was steadily heading into a chasm.
Perhaps it was inevitable that they would eventually fall out with the Jing Family. Mu Zihao only hoped that even if his and Jing Xianzong’s, including the old master’s relationship dissolved, his son would still remain as close with Jing Feng as before. After all, they had grown up together and had always aided each other. Considering Jing Feng’s character, Mu Zihao felt he was still reliable.
Feng Fanghua had no idea what Mu Zihao was thinking. She just approached him and said: "Your son moved in without even asking me."
"Humph, isn’t that what you tacitly agreed to? You claimed you were tired and wanted to head back to your room early."
She just wanted to try on the cheongsam.
Qin Mu had not gotten off Mu Yi’s body until twelve o’clock the previous night. At first, she did not want to; later, she wanted to but couldn’t, and finally, after much effort satisfying him, but...
The aftermath of indulgence was feeling even weaker the next day.
Mrs. Mu could hardly get out of bed the next morning, although she still instinctively tried to rise.
As soon as Mu Yi felt a cool breeze blowing into the blankets, he immediately pressed her down again: "Stay and sleep with me a little longer."
"I really can’t this time!"
"Resistance is futile!" His hoarse voice carried an insistent gravity.
Qin Mu helplessly lay beside him, watching as he closed his eyes and unintentionally her wait began.
In truth, she quite enjoyed this feeling.
If, after many years, he could still cling to her , letting her stay with him in bed until the sun was high, she would be more than willing.
But, would they ever reach such a day?
It was only after he fell asleep again that she quietly got out of bed.
There were still clothes of hers here; she gently opened the wardrobe, picked out a dress, and quietly went to the bathroom.
After washing up and changing clothes, she went to Huanhuan’s room. Intending to wake Huanhuan to help her with her hair, she gently pushed open the door only to find Huanhuan already dressed and sitting at the edge of the bed, with Feng Fanghua standing by, combing her hair.
Qin Mu tiptoed over: "Auntie, let me do it!"
Feng Fanghua, without even giving her a glance, continued to braid her granddaughter’s hair.
Qin Mu just stood there watching, and as time passed, her gaze gradually unfocused, as if she had been transported back more than ten years.
As a child, she had been lazy, and her mother would kneel on the bed with one leg, combing her hair in an awkward posture.