Deep night gradually fell. He Xiyan was still awake. She opened her eyes and saw a familiar face beside her.
Jiahang should be asleep already; his even breathing could be heard.
She reached out her right hand, landing gently on Jiahang's forehead. When touching his face softly, she could not help blowing her nose with the familiar feeling passed on through her fingers.
"I'm sorry!" She murmured, and then two tears fell down from the corners of her eyes, dropping onto the white pillow.
Chen Jiahang suddenly moved, one hand reaching out of the quilt and holding the woman beside into his arms.
"Have a good rest, Yanyan." He said vaguely, and then closed his eyes again and fell into a deep sleep.
