Song Yansheng saw this, and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. Then he took off his shoes, got on the bed, plugged in the hairdryer, and with one hand, he gently combed Shi Nuan's hair while holding the hairdryer in the other hand.
His fingers were long and soft, and when they threaded through her hair, it felt so light. Her hair was long and tangled, yet he somehow didn't pull painfully on it.
It was rare to see a man being so meticulous.
Gradually, warmth spread in Shi Nuan's chest, and that warmth kept swirling there like a mist, making it hard for her to breathe.
Her nose felt a bit sour.
She wondered, what was happening to her?
Why...
Why did she suddenly feel like... crying a little?
Song Yansheng quickly dried Shi Nuan's hair, then reached out to tidy it slightly, the corners of his lips lifting into a faint smile: "Isn't this nice, clean and fresh!"
