1174: Cuteness Overload

Cuteness Overload

0Mo Lian nodded with a chuckle before leaving Qiao Mu by herself inside the cultivation room. "Then it's a date!"2

Qiao Mu could only nod in resignation.

It was so strange. This person kept hindering her from cultivating, yet why didn't she want to whack him dead in particular…

"Qiaoqiao." Mo Lian popped his head inside the cultivation room and gave her a grin. "See you tomorrow."

At this, Qiao Mu raised her small paw and waved it reflexively.

On the other hand, Mo Lian held back from springing over and fondling her again in his arms.

The little fellow's cuteness was going to be the death of him!

He really wanted to just hug her like this, even if they did nothing but chat the night away.

He didn't want to let go at all!

What in the world was she cultivating for? It was as if this imp had joined a heretical faction, harping on and on about cultivating, day and night.

Crown Prince Mo left the secret room dejectedly as he returned to the bedchamber. However, he would involuntarily keep looking in the direction of the secret room.

It was great that his Qiaoqiao had returned!

His pitiful heart that had been suspended on tenterhooks had finally calmed down, settling on firm ground.

—-My Lian's section break—-

Mo Kingdom capital, the Vassal King of An'nan's Estate.

The gilded plaque with a black background was solemn and awe-inspiring under the setting rays of the sun.

The imposing main doors opened inward with a rumble.

Afterwards, an entourage escorted an abnormally thin woman, with a gaunt face and protruding cheekbones, outside.

That woman was not yet in her fifties, and right now, her demanding face was all gratified smiles.

The two nannies supporting the woman on each side wore cyan servant clothes, with their hair coiled into buns.

Beside them stood a man in his fifties dressed in a purple and gold robe. His hair was black, and he also wore a beard. These two were the old Vassal King of An'nan and his vassal king consort Wu Hongmo.

The couple nodded smilingly as they exchanged glances. Aftwards, they looked ahead at the same time with anticipation.

"They have come, they have come. Vassal King, Vassal King Consort, the vassal prince has returned, he has returned." A cyan-clothed servant exuberantly proclaimed as he sprinted rapidly for the estate's doors.

"Quick, quickly, help me over." Wu Hongmo pulled the nannies' hands, unable to restrain her joy.

"Vassal King Consort, do not be anxious. The vassal prince will come to greet you soon." One nanny smiled as she held the vassal king consort's hand.

Soon, three swift horses galloped over rapidly from far away under everyone's expectant gazes.

The black figure in the middle dismounted effortlessly while throwing his spear to a soldier behind him. The Vassal Prince of An'nan, Chou Fu, strode forward and kneeled down with a straight back before the old Vassal King and Vassal King Consort of An'nan. "What virtues amd capabilities is this child blessed with to actually trouble Father and Mother to personally come out in welcome."

"Fu'er, stand up, quickly stand up." The Vassal King Consort of An'nan enthusiastically descended the steps as she hurriedly helped him up. In her excitement, she caressed her son's handsome face tremblingly with a joyous smile. "Fu'er, Mother really has been missing you for so long, finally seeing you home at last. Fu'er has gotten thinner, but more robust."

"Mother." The Vassal Prince of An'nan, Chou Fu, supported the vassal king consort with a smile. He then turned to look at the beaming Vassal King of An'nan. "Fu'er greets Dad."

"It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back." The old Vassal King of An'nan smiled while stroking his beard.

The Vassal King Consort of An'nan nodded as she gazed tenderly at her son. "Fu'er, the journey must have been hard on you. Let's go back before catching up."

"Mhm, your mom is right. Fu'er, let's first go inside. For your welcome dinner today, we made a lot of your favorite dishes. Come in now," remarked the Vassal King of An'nan with a chortle as he stroked his beard.

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