Listening to his soft murmurs, Qiao Mo's ears inexplicably turned a few shades redder, and strangely, she didn't push him away.
Feeling the warmth of his chest, she didn't know when she started to feel a bit reassured...
Qiao Mo lowered her gaze, listening to the sound of the tides rising and falling.
She thought, perhaps it was when he carried her on the beach, or when he shielded her under his body when the wild horse went berserk, or maybe... it's the moment he repeatedly let go despite his rising desires.
A week later, Fu Nancheng's injuries gradually improved, and there was less than a week until the deadline for the first equestrian clothing design.
In the early morning, when the sky was just getting light.
Fu Nancheng glanced at the woman in his arms and spoke in a deep voice, "It's six o'clock."
Perhaps because he had just woken up, his voice was slightly hoarse, and Qiao Mo furrowed her brows and whimpered, remaining motionless.
