“Where is Ruoshui?” Gnawing on a steamed bun, Su Zhirui continued asking without shame. To be honest, she still didn’t even know what dynasty she was in.
“The north,” Yi Feng replied, as calm as ever.
“Why haven’t I heard of it?” Su Zhirui froze. Which dynasty had a place with that name?
“The north.” Yi Feng turned and glanced at her, seeming to smile and yet not, emphasizing those two words again.
“Where is the north…? Damn it, it’s not like I don’t know where north is.” Halfway through asking, Su Zhirui finally realized she had been teased again.
Here we go again.
It was pointless asking, because no matter where it was, she had never heard of it, and there was no need for her to know. Forget it—focusing on eating her steamed bun was more practical. Still, she felt somewhat uncomfortable inside, perhaps because she had been the one taking the initiative to speak the entire time.
“Where is your home?” Slightly sulky, Su Zhirui followed behind him with some effort.
“You don’t need to know that right now.” Yi Feng stopped, turned back to look at her, his expression unchanged but utterly serious.
“You’re not lying to me?” Her phoenix eyes half-lowered slightly, as if she understood something, then immediately shifted to another question.
“No.”
“Where is your home?”
“…” Even like this, he wouldn’t fall into her trap.
“Then let me carry the bundle for you?” Feeling a little guilty about making him carry it alone, Su Zhirui hurried forward and tugged at his arm. “I’ll carry the bundle, and you carry me.” As soon as she finished speaking, Su Zhirui suddenly leapt toward Yi Feng. The man immediately let out a muffled groan, his brows drawing tightly together. Seeing his expression, she finally remembered the wound on his back.
“I’m sorry, I forgot.” She touched his back guiltily. Though there was clothing between them, she could clearly feel the uneven claw marks on his back. Last night, had she really used that much strength? Uh, but it had really hurt at the time. Not scratching his face was already doing right by his ancestors.
“Get on.” Half-crouching, Yi Feng spoke, as if leaving no room for refusal.
“But you…” Of course she wanted to jump onto that broad, comfortable back immediately, but thinking of the tragic sight she had seen that morning, she still held back. After all, that injury had been caused by one swipe of her claws.
“As long as you don’t move around.” The second time he said it, it seemed to be the limit of his patience. After a pause, Su Zhirui still lay very lightly onto his back.
“Why don’t you like talking?” Not daring to move, yet unwilling to endure the silence, Su Zhirui could only find some pointless question to break the awkwardness between them.
“No reason.” Hearing this, Su Zhirui began to feel a headache coming on. In the future, she definitely couldn’t ask questions—she could only make statements or ask rhetorical ones.
“Fine, then. I’ll tell you why I like talking.”
“Not important.”
He threw back another three words. This time, she was truly a little angry. Fine, she admitted defeat. She fished out a steamed bun and continued gnawing on it.
“Then what is important?” In the end, Su Zhirui couldn’t hold back and asked again.
“When you’re going to have children,” Yi Feng answered directly.
“Then you should marry a sow.”
“Don’t move around.” Seeing her get worked up, he immediately warned her. The back she had scratched last night might already be bleeding.
“It’s not like I want to.” Su Zhirui rolled her eyes hard.
“Then don’t wipe your boogers on me,” Yi Feng said righteously.
“I saw nothing, heard nothing, so I know nothing,” Su Zhirui replied very solemnly, her face neither red nor her heart racing.
“…”
Su Zhirui laughed inwardly. Every time, in the end, Yi Feng always used silence to end every conversation.
It was fine. Once he got used to being speechless, it would be all right.