One evening, Qing Er curled up in the corner of the sofa, her expression blank, her gaze distant.
It was hard to tell what she was thinking, but that tranquility made it hard for anyone to disturb her.
Xia Luo got up, took a blanket, and gently draped it over her shoulders.
Then he sat in front of her, quietly watching her until she closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep.
He stood up, carefully picked her up, intending to take her to the bed to rest. Curled up like this, she would definitely feel uncomfortable in the morning.
While holding her in his arms, he vaguely heard the words she murmured in her sleep.
Very softly, yet he heard them clearly.
"Wanjun, have I already... stopped loving you?"
As the words fell, Xia Luo noticed the bright tears rolling down her cheeks from her closed eyes.
His limbs went somewhat stiff. Standing under the light, looking at her snow-white skin, her exquisite and beautiful features, his heart stirred in waves.
