Shi Nuan looked at the boy’s clean and delicate face at that time, blushing slightly, and then nodded gently.
Then she was pulled by the boy and went to his house.
There was no one at the boy’s house, only the servant, and he brought her into the bathroom in his room, letting her take a bath first.
Then he asked the servant to bring a clean set of clothes.
However, the clothes were indeed too big for her; they were all his clothes.
But it was certainly better than wearing wet clothes.
After she changed, the boy, with still damp hair, came over with a glass of milk, handed it to her, and said, "Have a glass of milk, and you won’t catch a cold!"
The boy was half a head taller than her, thin, but his features were quite handsome.
Looking at the boy’s innocent eyes and eyebrows, she couldn’t help but feel her ears heat up, and her heart beat faster.
That day, she took the glass of milk, felt its warmth, and quietly wrote the boy’s name in her heart: Shen Zui!
Now six years have passed since then. Again, someone handed her a glass of warm milk, but besides touching on past memories, it could no longer stir even a ripple in her heart.
Shi Nuan obediently drank the milk, washed the glass and set it aside, originally intending to continue packing her things but remembered what Song Yansheng said.
Eventually, she gave up, found the pajamas she brought from the wardrobe, and went into the bathroom.
About fifteen minutes later, she came out after a bath, then rapidly lay down on the bed after pulling back the quilt.
She left a night light on, because now, she was somewhat afraid of the dark.
Shi Nuan thought she would have trouble sleeping, but unexpectedly, she was drowsy after less than ten minutes of lying down and soon lost consciousness.
Last night Shi Nuan practically had insomnia all night. The whole day today, because of Song Yichuan’s funeral, she was mentally drained and had been forcing herself to hold on till now.
In addition to having drank the milk, which had sleeping pills Aunt Hui put in at Song Yansheng’s behest.
No other meaning, he just hoped she would have a peaceful sleep, she was indeed tired today.
A few minutes after Shi Nuan fell asleep, the doorknob turned and the silhouette of a man slowly walked in under the dim light.
His steps were very light, as if afraid of waking the person deeply asleep on the bed, although, in truth, she shouldn’t wake.
The large bed was a pale yellow, almost white, so the small figure on the bed was quite noticeable.
Her hair was long, scattered on the light-colored pillow like ink, strikingly beautiful.
Her features could be vaguely recognized under the hazy light, very soft and delicate, with her body curled up in a small ball, looking somewhat pitiful.
His hand subconsciously reached out, touched her fair face, and brushed her hair lightly.
He called softly, his voice lingering with emotion.
But the person on the bed couldn’t hear, thus did not respond.
He chuckled to himself, sighed slightly, and gently grabbed her small hand that was exposed, softly stroking it.
The person on the bed shifted a bit but still did not wake. Yet, under the dim light of the bedside lamp, he noticed the wet marks at the corner of her eye...
He reached out to wipe it for her, and the small woman in deep sleep suddenly frowned, instinctively brushing his hand away.
This slight action was like a needle piercing the man’s heart, his eyes trembled, and his warm expression shattered in an instant...
Her reactions in slumber were the truest form of her, so all her concessions were merely superficial; ultimately, she still intended to leave him...
But Nuannuan, having been with me, how difficult it is for you to leave... Don’t forget, I am Song Yansheng!