As soon as he finished speaking, Shi Che directly pulled Ling Chuxia to her feet, wrapping his arm around her still slender waist, heading straight towards the little garden.
It was autumn, and in the small garden, many flowers had already withered and fallen, yet there were still quite a few in full bloom, their colors vivid. Ling Chuxia had always liked flowers and plants. After taking a stroll around the garden, she felt unusually calm.
The last time they were in Provence, Ling Chuxia had taken a particular liking to the swing in the yard. Upon their return, Shi Che had someone make one in their garden too. Shi Che now led her to sit on it, and Ling Chuxia lazily leaned into his embrace.
The autumn breeze was gently blowing, and the sunlight was warm. Ling Chuxia squinted slightly, as if the gloom in her heart dissipated a little.
