Qiao Mianmian was like his tranquilizer—she was able to make him relax better than any drug ever could.
The sweet floral smell was all around him, and he was completely at ease now. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep soon after.
…
On this night, even with Qiao Mianmian around, Mo Yesi had that nightmare again.
In his dreamscape, he'd gone back in time to the day he was kidnapped.
He was in a grimy and humid basement, his arms and legs were tied up, and a ball of cloth was stuffed in his mouth. His handsome face was so dirty, he didn't even look like himself anymore.
He was being watched by an armed hooligan and was only given one bun a day to stay barely alive. The gangsters had something against the wealthier class and found joy in tormenting him by starving and hitting him.
They might have just beaten him to death if they hadn't been relying on him for a handsome ransom.
