Pei Ye remained motionless, ignoring it for the first time.
Then he suddenly heard a faint greeting from outside the courtyard.
"...Li Piaoqing, are you here to see Pei Ye?" The surprised voice of Yang Yan.
A few days earlier, this sentence would have made him feel oppressed enough to want to hide. But now, his heart clenched, and he couldn't articulate his feelings—he even felt a sense of joy.
"...No." The girl's voice was even lower, so weak it was heartbreaking, "I...came to practice swordsmanship."
"...Oh, I'll call Pei Ye." In Yang Yan's mind, his friend's "practicing of swordsmanship" was undoubtedly linked with Pei Ye.
"No, no! Don't! I'll just, practice by myself for a while..."
"...Oh." Yang Yan was baffled.
The voices faded, a familiar set of departing footsteps, another familiar set of footsteps returning to the courtyard, which Pei Ye didn't care about.
Pei Ye only then realized that he had somehow sprung up, one leg already off the bed.
