The white fingers and bright red nails poked Fowler's chest, and Mrs. Fowler laughed. The couple was tired of being together and said one after another.

After a moment, Mrs. Fowler was extremely tired, buried in her husband's arms and fell asleep.

"Dear, don't you go and rinse it?" Fowler pushed his wife, and saw that the latter had already made a slight breathing sound, so he let go of the embrace. Looking at the heavy night outside the window, he couldn't help but sigh.

"These beautiful people are as charming as before, but how long has it been since I experienced that supreme happiness..."

Fowler murmured to himself.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed, and his eyelids blinked rapidly uncontrollably, as if he had discovered something.

Fowler got off the bed quietly, and quickly finished putting on it. He took out a slender sword from the head of the bed, treated it as a crutch, and walked out with his graceful posture seemed to be innate.

The hall was very dim, with only two wall lights flashing, and a figure sat on the sofa.

To be precise, there was a figure sitting, and a container was placed next to it.

"Mr. Fowler, come late at night to disturb me, I hope you won't be surprised..." The figure looked up, looked at Fowler, and nodded calmly.

For a moment, Fowler's body froze. Looking at the young face of the figure, somehow he thought of the portrait of the man he was treasured in the secret room. The demeanor between the two was always a bit similar for some reason...
Chapter completed!