In the quiet of the night, her voice seemed to carry some kind of bewitchment that was soft and lingering.
Lu Huaiyu stood in front of the French windows and looked out at the flashing of the beautiful flowing light.
He laughed, his voice low and languid.
"Do you miss your brother?"
Shen Li shrank back under the covers of her bed again and answered softly.
"Yes."
He tilted his head and slightly raised his head. His jawline was sharp and smooth, and his slender fingers with distinct joints slowly tugged at the collar of his shirt.
He chuckled, his voice a little hoarse.
"However, brother more than misses you."
He did not seem to have said anything, yet it also seemed as if he had said everything.
The tips of Shen Li's ears felt like it was boiling hot.
He asked, "Shall I go to look for you today?"
Shen Li thought for a moment.
