Catch A Dragon Become My Wife

chapter seventy-three: how did you ever have a home?

the night is dark, and the willows on the moon are headed.

the door of the qiankun palace was pushed open, and yan yi ignored the eunuchs outside the palace and entered the inner temple with a terrible face. the hall was pitch black, and he couldn't see his five fingers, as if no one was there, and he walked to the edge of the bed with his feelings, opened the tent, and groped for a bulging figure on the bed.

it was xuan long who was sleeping.

yan iris violently lifted the quilt, and when the cold wind braked, it poured into the thin sacrilege, and the man on the bed made a slight swallowing sound, unconsciously curled himself into a ball, and did not wake up.

"come on people."

"bring cold water."

the emperor was furious, and no one dared to ask what he wanted cold water to come in on the autumn night.

soon a eunuch trotted in with a wooden bucket filled with water, occasionally splashing a few drops on the dark brown floor and turning into crystalline droplets of water. at this time, the candles in the hall had been lit, and the dim light reflected the face of the swallow kite.

"pour it on."

"the emperor... this..." the new little eunuch widened his eyes in surprise, turned his head to look at the emaciated man on the bed, unable to move for a moment.

yan yi glanced at him faintly on the side of his head, and the man-eating look frightened the little felt, and the wooden barrel in his hand almost fell to the ground without being steady.

the little felt gritted its teeth, picked up the heavy barrel, and threw it on the bed.

the moment the cold and bone-chilling water fell, the man was soaked in profane clothes, and woke up with a low cough, he sat up on the bed, the water choked into the throat tube, coughed heart-rending lungs, and his thin shoulders trembled, and he couldn't stop. the long hair was wet and sticking to the side of the face, and the moisture was a thin layer of light for the angular and handsome silhouette, and the face was pale and almost transparent.

the palace people quietly retreated in an atmosphere of sword rattling.

yan yi stepped forward, and his powerful fingers roughly pinched xuan long's jaw and turned his face, looking at his masked face like a scrutiny, the corners of his lips slightly upturned, and there was no smile under his eyes.

"you've been leisurely all day, and you know how to sleep, and it's really comfortable to live in, right?"

the two men's warm breaths met, and xuan long hid the blood stains of his palms in the futon, suppressed the cough gushing out of the trachea, and raised the golden green pupils to look at each other: "... fair enough. "

the man's breath was weak and he was obviously lacking in mid-breath.