***
All Qiao Chutian could do now was to let her feel his love and to let her know that her existence in this world was crucially important to him.
Qiao Chutian stood before the bed, watching her sleeping face.
In the past, as she slept, she would appear childlike—innocent and cute, compelling one to plant a kiss on her.
Now, her sleeping expression bore traces of pain. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her pale lips tightly pursed, and her hands clenched the corner of the blanket so fiercely it was unclear whether she was having a nightmare or feeling unwell.
He climbed onto the bed, lay down beside her, and gently cradled her head in the crook of his arm. His fingers softly caressed her furrowed brow, smoothing away the tension.
Perhaps sensing the warmth of his embrace, Mai Xiaomai's tightly knitted expression gradually relaxed under his fingertips. Her hands no longer gripped the blanket's edge but loosened, and she slept with a tad more ease.
