A little while later, Lin Feng and his women began their journey home. The carriage rolled steadily along the quiet road, its wooden wheels creaking softly against the earth.
Inside, however, the atmosphere was far from calm.
Though no one spoke, the silence was thick with unspoken tension. Ning Xi and Ye Jian sat pressed close on either side of Lin Feng, as they always did, their presence almost possessive.
Their hands moved freely, tracing along his arms, shoulders, and chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Every so often, they would lean in just a little more, their soft forms brushing against him, silently asserting their closeness.
Yet despite their boldness, they remained quiet, fully aware that the carriage driver just outside could hear even the faintest sound. For now, restraint was necessary.
Lin Feng, seated between them, appeared composed on the surface, but his slight shifts and steady breathing betrayed that he was far from unaffected.
