Mingshu hugged him impulsively, but now, sensing the stiffness in his body, a late surge of warmth rushed to her face, steaming her cheeks red.
She took a deep breath, her nostrils filled with a cold fragrance that always lingered on Si Chu, resembling snow cedar and somehow a kind of herb, its cool scent slightly stabilizing her.
Having hugged already, she must at least make the most of it!
Mingshu gave up all pretense of control and buried her face into his chest, her voice sounding timid and coy, "I, I'm scared."
Si Chu: "… Oh."
Oh?
That's it, that indifferent?
Mingshu frowned deeply, beginning to doubt her own charm.
Was this what they called an impassive heart amidst chaos?
Or did her throwing herself at him not even count as a temptation for Si Chu?
Whichever the answer was, they both seemed painfully poignant.
