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... trance of the Prime Minister’s Mansion. Feng Zhiyao, who got off the carriage, never thought Feng Wucai stood there with his hands behind his back. At this moment, he was waiting for her at the gate, slowly and gently the night wind, blowing his long sleeves to fly, with a smile that didn’t seem to a smile. “Father, it’s so late. Why haven’t you rested yet?” Feng Zhiyao was stunned for a moment. Had her father seen the scene of Wen Xingyuanyuan carrying her off the carriage just now? “Yao’er, do ...

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