A warm feeling, and a soft breeze blowing, it must be morning.
The person on the bed blinked and opened her eyes. She looked towards the direction of the French windows, and in her beautiful big eyes, only a speckle of light and shadow could be seen.
"You're awake?" This sudden voice startled Qianning. Was that man in the room? And he must be sitting on the small sofa over there. When did he come in? Why didn't she feel anything? How could she sleep so soundly in such an environment?
Speaking of sleeping soundly, Qianning only then realized that last night might have been the deepest sleep she had ever had. The bed beneath her, the smell of the blanket—it all seemed so familiar.
