But obviously, He Zhilan did not have the courage to jest at this moment, even though He Teng was silently looking at her with a wry smile. It seemed his mood had lightened considerably.
He Zhilan's hair was soft, nestled in his palm, making He Teng's palm feel itchy. He moved his palm slightly but it felt more like he was gently caressing her face.
"Brother, you have to get better quickly," He Zhilan murmured quietly, her eyes reflecting his smiling face, his hard facial lines softened a touch.
She cooed like a kitten in his palm. He murmured a low 'hmm' in response to her wishes. Her hopes were his hopes too. Only when he recovers quickly, can she relax a little.
A faint warmth seemed to envelop the pair, a miraculous warmth that could penetrate the heart and provoke a sense of coziness.
