"…The soup has spilled."
Qianmo took a step backward subconsciously so that the soup would splatter on her hand first before landing upon the blanket. She wanted to stretch out her hands to reach the paper at the table, while he hurried to check if her hands had been burnt.
That was how a cute couple of excellently-matched height worked. With one forward and the other upward, four lips were connected together without any warning.
How soft, how fragrant, and how sweet!
It was so much more real than in his dream.
Qianmo had never expected that something like this would happen. Startled, she watched the expressionless man falling backward. He had a contented calmness lingering on his face, just like a man who had been shot in the battles played out in a TV-series.
It looked as if everything was worth the effort for him now, embracing his death with a delighted expression!
He had passed out…
