The gentle breeze rustled the treetops, but the pear tree branches, stripped of their leaves, could no longer rustle in return.
It was now midnight, the lights in Shuanghua Residence had been extinguished, silent and quiet, however, there were occasional noises from Lin Jiaojiao's chamber.
"No... Yan Sihan ..." Lin Jiaojiao was panting heavily, her face flushed as she pressed against his chest to stop him from coming closer.
But her strength was lacking, and before she could catch a few breaths, her lips were sealed again.
It was winter, yet it felt like summer had arrived, sweat beaded on Lin's forehead, dampening her bangs.
Xuemei was squatting not far outside the chamber, glancing at the chamber door from time to time, thinking about brewing a large pot of chicken soup tomorrow to nourish her lady.
Deep into the night, the light in the chamber finally dimmed significantly.
Yan Sihan, holding the person in his arms, gently planted a kiss on her sleeping forehead.
