An Yan finished her bath, dried her hair, and came to the master bedroom.
The two little ones were listening to Fu Shiyan tell a story.
She leaned against the headboard, snuggled up next to Fu Jinyan, and joined them in listening.
The two little ones had been listening to Fu Shiyan's stories since they were in An Yan's belly and continued to grow up to the sound of his voice on the recorder, so they liked the magnetic and mellow timbre of a man's voice, and even piano music and light music couldn't replace it.
Soon, the two little ones drifted off to sleep.
Fu Shiyan tucked in Fu Mu'an, who was by his side, while An Yan did the same for Fu Jinyan.
He leaned over, reaching across the two little ones to grasp An Yan's wrist, "They're asleep now; it's my turn to lull you to sleep."
An Yan watched as those long, handsome fingers kept stroking her pulse, the rhythm beneath her skin seeming to make her blood boil.
