Going Home

The headlights of the procession stretched down the road, transforming it into a river of light. The quiet Christmas night was suddenly bright with life and excitement.

Gu Nianzhi nestled her head on Huo Shaoheng's broad chest. Every shred of loneliness within her had vanished.

She knew where her past, present, and future belonged—by his side, and in his arms.

Gu Nianzhi sobbed quietly. In the silent night, her suppressed sobs were as heartbreaking to hear as the plaintive cries of a new-born kitten.

She did not want to cry openly. Someone might hear her, and laugh at her for acting like a spoiled child at her age.

Besides, she was now aware that her feelings for Huo Shaoheng had changed: they had grown beyond the innocent, guileless trust of a young child towards her caretaker.

Once she was done crying, Gu Nianzhi buried her head in Huo Shaoheng's chest and took a long, deep breath, as though trying to absorb the warmth of his body.