"Hey."
Yu Shujun called out softly.
Unlike Guan Ailin, Yu Shujun wasn't accustomed to being held like this. Her body was stiff, like a kitten being lifted by its owner for the first time, rigid as if paralyzed by a spell, eyes staring blankly forward with a bewildered yet vacant expression.
Wen Nan chuckled, gently placing her on the table beside him, pinching her cheeks, "What's with the face?"
This storage room was similar to Harry's little hut in layout, a small room sectioned off beneath the stairs, cramped and low. The distance between the waist-high tabletop and the ceiling above was even narrower than the upper berth space on a green train.
Lying on top, it was impossible to sit up straight, only able to prop oneself slightly with arms, the head almost touching the slanted composite board overhead.
