"Hyah!"
The dragon horse galloped fiercely, with a strong wind hitting her face.
Zhao Shiyong clung tightly to Zhou Chen's embrace, greedily inhaling the masculine scent from his chest, murmuring:
"The silver saddle glows on the white horse, dashing like a meteor."
"In ten steps, slay a person, traveling a thousand miles without stopping..."
Her full bosom heaved, her blood boiling with an indescribable feeling.
She really wished she could stay in this embrace for a lifetime.
Riding freely across the martial world.
Carefree and unrestrained.
Zhou Chen rested his head on Zhao Shiyong's fragrant shoulder, smelling the fragrance of her hair, galloping three hundred miles in half a day, arriving at an inn.
"Young Master, should we rest?"
Zhao Shiyong's cheeks were red, as if she wasn't riding a horse but had become the horse herself, especially since Zhou Chen's hands were quite unrestrained, constantly squeezing her.
