Perhaps because she was frightened, Mu Anran did not sleep soundly.
Her hands, crossed under her head even in sleep, remained tightly clenched.
On her palm-sized little face, her curly, dense long eyelashes constantly trembled, making her look like a porcelain doll that would shatter at the slightest touch.
Yu Lingqian slowly reached out, his fingertips touching her delicate and smooth cheek, causing her to mumble uncomfortably and move her body.
His gaze flickered, about to withdraw his hand.
But it was grasped by Mu Anran, who pressed his hand tightly against her face, mumbling unclearly, "Yu, Young Master Yu, don't go..."
Yu Lingqian, who had intended to pull his hand back, paused and then quietly closed his eyes.
Not knowing how long she slept, by the time Mu Anran hazily opened her eyes, it had turned completely dark. Suddenly, she felt as if there was something extra on her face.
Hey, why was she sleeping holding an arm?
