Qingqing watched his back disappear into the night, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Immediately, she was immediately aware of the half-smiling but focused eyes and the warmth coming from the palms of her hands.
"Um, um, thank you..." Qingqing lowered her head, not daring to look at Zijin, and said hesitantly with a red face, while carefully trying to pull her hand back.
"Thank you for what?" Liu Zijin looked down at her embarrassment and smiled gently, without letting go of his hand.
"I... I..." Qingqing's usual cleverness disappeared.
"Qingqing Zijin, you care about my heart." Zijin's voice was slow, but full of tenderness.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Zijin, Zijin, look at the photos from the botanical garden that day. They have been developed!" Qingqing took out a dozen photos from her bag. Zijin held Qingqing in his arms and watched her lovingly flipping through the photos one by one.
"Look, this one looks good... This one is not bad either." Qingqing commented while looking at it. Turning to the photo of Zijin holding herself under the peach blossoms, her face turned red. "When the peach is born, its flowers are burning. When the son returns, he will be suitable for his family." This is what Zijin whispered to her under the peach blossoms that day.
Zijin noticed that she suddenly stopped shouting, her face turned red, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
"You understand!" The tone was very firm.
"What... What did you say... I don't understand." Only then did Qingqing react, hesitating, and vividly explained what it means that there is no three hundred taels of silver here.