Yan Song suddenly grasped her arm, and Yun Ya glanced sideways.
The youth hung his head low, his tall frame towering like a mountain, yet still with the delicate air of a young man.
"Thank you," he murmured softly, the two words nearly dissipating into the wind as soon as they were spoken.
Nevertheless, Yun Ya captured them clearly.
Yun Ya smiled, "Brother Yan, there's no need for thanks between us."
The hand that had been on her arm suddenly slid down and gripped Yun Ya's fingers tightly. His fingers were broad and long, not as delicate as hers, with calluses on his palms that scratched her skin slightly, causing a tingling pain that slowly pulled Yun Ya's heart into the abyss.
He gripped tightly, and Yun Ya felt some pain, "Brother Yan—it hurts."
Yan Song lifted his eyes and glanced at her, his profound gaze causing Yun Ya's heart to contract, then she tilted her head with a smile and cheekily winked.
"Brother Yan, do you have time after school tomorrow?"
