Pei Zhiyao sat by the bed, his demeanor serene, his gaze filled with deep care.
His black hair streamed with a soft luster in the sunlight, as if blending into the warmth of the afternoon.
Pei Zhiyao's hands, long and powerful, were carefully holding a beautifully crafted porcelain cup, a pale celadon peeking through the white.
The tea in the cup steamed, releasing a faint, refreshing fragrance.
"Good afternoon, this tea was just brewed; it should quench your thirst upon waking," he said softly, his voice like a gentle rain soothing the soul, making one feel peaceful and comfortable.
Wen Mian smiled as she took the teacup, her fingers lightly touching Pei Zhiyao's hands. At that moment, it was as if a faint electric current flowed through the air.
She couldn't help but shiver slightly, then immediately steadied her mind.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the plane trees outside the window, casting mottled shadows, as a gentle breeze blew, bringing waves of coolness.
