Si Chu met her expectant gaze and, with an almost imperceptible sigh, stepped forward, bent down, and gently lifted his hands to remove her hairpins and take off the heavy and splendid Phoenix Crown.
Being so close, Mingshu watched unblinkingly as the dragon patterns danced wildly on his festive robe. The faint scent of agarwood lingered in her nose, and the cool breath shocked her senses, like pine trees after the snow.
For a moment, she wasn't sure whether the scene before her eyes was real or fake.
If it was fake, why were her senses so vividly real?
Her neck suddenly felt light, the day's heaviness swept away; Mingshu slowly and stiffly turned her neck from side to side, letting out a sigh.
Cool fingertips touched the nape of her neck, massaging it with great skill. At first, Mingshu's body remained a bit rigid, but she gradually submitted to her body's instincts, sinking into lazy comfort.
