An Lan had waited outside the manor for an entire night, her body and mind already weary.
Having rushed out in a hurry, she didn't bring any clothes, and the loose white gauze top she wore was dampened by the mountain mist.
Chen Yuan, looking at An Lan, who was crying sadly in his arms, didn't know how to begin consoling her.
At this moment, An Lan was crying like a child, seemingly venting all the grievances in her heart.
"It's okay, it's okay." Chen Yuan genuinely didn't know what to say, only managing these words.
After a while, when An Lan's crying sounds grew softer, Chen Yuan softly said,
"Feeling better?"
Only then did An Lan realize that she was clinging to Chen Yuan's body, her hands locked around his waist, and her pretty face instantly flushed red. She released her hands, trying to break free, but noticed that Chen Yuan had no intention of letting go.
