In the gauze tent, Pei Qing covered Song Qing'an's face with one hand, lingered around his waist with the other hand, and slowly went up.

Song Qing'an's eyes flushed, there seemed to be tears in his eyes, and his clothes were scattered.

Pei Qing is still neat, and even the wrinkles on the middle coat are difficult to see. He stared at Song Qing'an, his dark eyes were like an ancient well.

Song Qing'an's breath gradually became messy, spraying on his palm. The corners of Pei Qing's lips were slightly raised, and while moving unhurriedly, she whispered in her ear:

Chapter 92 of "The Sparrow in the Palm of the Eunuch" is in the middle of the hand, please wait a while,

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