"Fuyao, the bright moon will disappear from sight. If we see it, we must treasure it." From behind her back, Yuan Zhaoxu whispered, "I will wait for you till the day you understand that."
Unexpectedly, particles scattered from the bonfire, and a roasted fragrance of pine nuts was released. A pine nut landed on the hollow of Fuyao's palm. She reached out her hand to grasp it, and it felt as though she was holding a scorching heart.
The flame illuminated the cave and projected a silhouette of that person's back. He was not considered tall, study, or powerful, but he provided her the right amount of warmth. Meng Fuyao looked at the shadow in a daze, as she saw her own hair reach his knees.
