"Meow," a faint cry suddenly rang out.
Yun Ya shook the basket she was holding in her right hand, "Ah Jiu, what's wrong?"
Yan Song frowned in disgust, put Yun Ya down, and steadied the bicycle before straddling it.
Yun Ya smiled, walked over, and sat on the crossbar, naturally wrapping her hands around his waist.
It was as if no matter how fierce the storm was, as long as she was in his arms, it was a warm haven.
"Hold on tight," a deep voice came from above.
Yun Ya snuggled closer into his embrace.
By the time they got home, it was already past eight in the evening.
Since Yan Song had called earlier to say he wouldn't be home for dinner, Uncle Yan hadn't prepared their evening meal.
Seeing the two of them walk in one after the other, Uncle Yan, waiting in the living room, squinted his old eyes into slits and greeted them with a beaming smile.
"Young master, Miss Yun Ya, you're back."
Yun Ya nodded politely to him and headed upstairs.
