Yang Qinglan remained silent, her hands resting on Li Changzhou's shoulders, her face so close it seemed to lightly lean against his chest.
Li Changzhou breathed in the fragrance of her hair, his whole body trembling slightly.
The figure of Yang Qinglan, originally slender and well-proportioned, felt astonishingly petite in his embrace, like holding a fledgling bird, warm and with utmost care.
He took a deep breath and tried to tighten his embrace a bit more.
"What's wrong with you?" Yang Qinglan suddenly spoke.
"Hmm?" Li Changzhou immediately dispersed the strength gathered in his hands, denying it completely, "I wasn't using any strength, really."
"This, I—" Li Changzhou also realized his own state.
Unable to think of an excuse, he confessed, "Ever since I met you, I haven't had, um, interactions with it, so I might be a bit too energetic."
"What are you thinking about now? Planning anything bad?" Yang Qinglan's voice sounded not angry but somewhat curious.
