Shang Yu lifted his finger and gently wiped away the rainwater that had splashed onto the corner of her eye from the edge of the umbrella, his voice raspy as he began to speak, "At the mourning hall."
So... he had recognized her that early on, even though she had been wearing a mask at the time.
Li Qiao lowered her eyes, her lips curved in a light smile, her gaze landing precisely on the fingers holding the umbrella, and teasingly whispered, "I see, I thought you hadn't seen me."
"Tired?" At this moment, Shang Yu rubbed her hair, looking at Li Qiao's trembling eyelashes and weary cheeks, a thought crossed his mind, and his palm smoothly slid to the back of her neck, squeezing gently a couple of times.
Li Qiao stiffened at his action, the warm, dry palm massaging the back of her neck, concentrating all her senses in one place, and a strong throb began spreading from her heart throughout her body.
