This face of his could truly be described as a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship, neither excessively masculine nor in the slightest bit effeminate, with sharply defined features and extreme handsomeness. Yet his contours exuded a mild indifference, neither approachable nor overly aloof and cold.
Wen Yi examined him closely and felt that he had hardly changed from five years ago; he was completely identical to the man in her memories.
Around noon, Mo Shichen must have fallen into a deep sleep after a few hours of rest, as his grip on her arm loosened and his subconscious wasn't as sharp. Wen Yi finally felt a sense of release, crawled out from his embrace, and tiptoed out the door.
As she closed the door behind her, she stood in the quiet, gloomy corridor and unconsciously let out a long sigh.
...
Wen Yi had nothing to do; she didn't usually engage in entertainment and devoted herself entirely to her work instead.
