Right there, curled up on the floor, her back resting lightly against the wooden frame, was Lin Zhaoyue, fast asleep.
Fang Yuan blinked.
"…You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
Her breathing was soft, peaceful.
The corners of her lips even held the faintest trace of a smile, like she had found comfort just being near his door.
He sighed, rubbing his temple before crouching down.
With practiced care, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and another behind her back, lifting her gently into his arms.
Despite her earlier mischiefs and madness, right now she seemed fragile, almost innocent.
He carried her to the bed and laid her down slowly, tucking the blanket over her shoulders with a light touch.
Then, standing over her for a quiet moment, he whispered, "Rest… you lunatic."
With another sigh, this one amused, he turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
There was work to do.
