"I didn't eat much last night," Shen Yan admitted, her face flushed with embarrassment.
She mainly listened to others praise Fu Hang last night.
Shen Yan, of course, would never tell him this.
"The porridge will be ready in five minutes. I'll help you blow dry your hair first."
"Okay."
Shen Yan's head was still aching. She turned around and leaned on Fu Hang's shoulder, allowing him to blow dry her hair.
She couldn't put her hands anywhere. She accidentally touched his short hair while wrapping her arms around his neck.
His hair was a little coarse and irritating, but it was particularly soft to the touch.
Fu Hang was too preoccupied in blowing Shen Yan's hair to notice Shen Yan's small motions.
Shen Yan's bravery grew as well, and she began to touch a vast region.
Fu Hang seemed unconcerned.
