Jiang Yi finally stopped moving, and her breathing began to steady.
Her small hand was still being held by Wen Suihan, and at this moment, she slept soundly to the extreme.
Wen Suihan's gaze withdrew from her face.
The next moment, he stood up and went straight to the bathroom.
The cold shower pouring over his head couldn't extinguish the fire in his heart.
-
That night, Wen Suihan couldn't sleep peacefully.
The guest room's bed was very soft, but it felt like he was lying on scorching magma, sharp as thorns.
He sat up from the big bed, his forehead dripping with dense sweat.
The light was on, as bright as day.
He looked bewilderedly at Jiang Yi standing before him.
Jiang Yi seemed different from before; her hair was wet, messily hanging down, divided at her shoulders, part of it lying in front of her and part behind, with droplets of water from the tips falling onto the back of his hand.
Jiang Yi's eyes were hazy, not resembling those of a real person.