Zhou Jingwei just laughed softly, his tone casual yet decisive, and yet so tender it was almost ridiculous, "But I won't allow it."
His voice was excessively soft, peeling away the tough essence at its core, leaving a gentle appearance that seemed more like an intimate whisper...
Cheng Weiyue woke up, her back against Zhou Jingwei's chest.
His hand rested on her waist over the blanket, his slim fingers like white jade, with fragments of sunlight falling on his fingertips.
Cheng Weiyue looked for a long time, unable to resist moving a little.
The hand on her waist tightened, his voice a husky whisper, "Awake?"
He kissed her ear, his stance hardly innocent.
Cheng Weiyue softly hummed in acknowledgement and then asked if she had woken him up.
"No, I slept very well," Zhou Jingwei said.
Cheng Weiyue nodded, not sure what to say next, when she suddenly heard Zhou Jingwei softly say from behind her, "In a few days, it'll be November."
