Just like that, she leaned in Zhuo Xiangqiao's embrace, listening to him tell her stories of the constellations above, stories that held entwined love and also celebrated the fearlessness of heroes.
Zhuo Xiangqiao used his deep, magnetic voice to paint those beautiful legends left by ancient ancestors for her.
Waves of sleepiness enveloped Lin Yue, and she yawned and snuggled closer in Zhuo Xiangqiao's embrace. As she listened to the steady cadence of Zhuo Xiangqiao's voice, her eyes slowly closed. She sank into a dark, sweet slumber. Hearing the even breathing of the person in his arms, he softly called out to Lin Yue a few times but, receiving no response, he knew she was fast asleep. He held Lin Yue tighter in his arms, resting his head against her hair and inhaling her fragrant scent, his heart gradually calmed down. No matter when or how foul his mood was, just the smell of this scent could soothe his heart.
