He instantly identified Chiang Xiao's scent.
That distinctive, subtle fragrance unique to her.
He leaned into her embrace, wrapped in her arms, her head lowered with her face resting against his forehead.
She had fallen asleep.
Meng Xinian felt an immense gratitude towards fate at this moment.
It hadn't been utterly cruel to him.
He was still alive, still able to see Chiang Xiaoxiao again, still able to touch her, and still could grow old with her.
And to Chiang Xiaoxiao, he no longer wanted to just say thank you.
His heart belonged to her, his person was hers, his life was also hers.
In this lifetime, he was entirely hers, and if there really were an afterlife, he'd still wish to be solely hers.
Never had anyone made him feel so complete and fulfilled to this extent, beyond words.
