Whenever the weather turned cold, Ling Hong always liked to take her out, and he made a point of choosing times when Gu Yin wasn't around.
'What was he up to?'
'It went without saying.'
The corners of An Jin's lips curved. Pretending she hadn't noticed his little scheme, she leaned most of her body against him, savoring the searing warmth of his chest. She narrowed her eyes in comfort. "I love leaning against you most whenever winter comes. It's like cuddling up to a huge furnace—so wonderfully warm."
She slipped her hand into his palm, shamelessly drawing in his warmth.
Feeling the sudden softness in his palm, Ling Hong's heart skipped a beat. He glanced down at their joined hands before his gaze shifted, coming to rest gently on her face.
She wore a thick, plush cloak, but it still couldn't ward off the biting chill. Her cheeks were flushed, the tip of her nose was red, and she shivered visibly, curled up in his embrace as her breath fogged in the air.
