He leaned forward, kneeling on one knee on the bed, reaching out to her: "Lyra."
Lyra's reaction was as if she had been greatly frightened, shaking her head in silence with a panicked expression.
With tears in her eyes, her whole body was trembling.
Her head was lowered, her lower lip tightly bitten, and the sound of her sobbing was struggling to be suppressed. But her emotions had reached a breaking point.
He slowly moved closer to her.
Every movement was so cautious.
"Lyra, it's me, Uncle Wu."
"Uncle Wu?"
"Yes, it's me."
He finally touched her again, pulling her into his arms.
Lyra leaned against the familiar chest, her nose picking up the familiar aroma of snow cedar. She knew that the person holding her was Uncle Wu, who had always given her a sense of security.
She sobbed out his name, "Uncle Wu..."
"I'm here." His palm soothingly patted her back, trying to calm her emotions.
Despite Morris's company, Lyra had a restless night's sleep.
