In the courtyard, Bu Rong's voice echoed, calling her youngest son to come wash his face. Sounds of well-water being drawn, doors closing, filled the air - but inside the house... the soft snore of the man beside her was the only sound.
He was sleeping so soundly that Nan Feng couldn't help but turn to observe him.
His thick eyebrows formed gentle ripples in his sleep. His lush eyelashes fluttered lightly, reminiscent of a butterfly's wings. The contours of his nose were sharp and vivid, his lips soft and supple like pale flower petals. Under his well-defined jawline was a yoke signifying the masculine charm.
Both of them were covered by the same quilt, nature wrapping only down to his waist. His upper body was bare, exposing his robust arm marked with a few knife wounds. Perhaps they were relics from a turbulent past, these scars only seemed to enhance his rugged appeal.
