Yun Jiao still faced toward the inside of the bed, shook her head, "I'm fine."
"You, you should leave. I haven't freshened up, this is really inappropriate."
Jiang Youzhi pulled over a chair and sat by the bed, "Where is it inappropriate? I think you still look lovely."
He wasn't lying. Just as he came in, he saw her eyes swollen, her complexion somewhat pale, even the color of her lips had faded a lot.
Her hair was indeed messy, but it reminded him of a phrase, "Wind hair and misty temples."
This Yun Jiao may not be as charming and lively as usual, but she possesses an added fragile and touching beauty that makes him truly want to hold her, to gently comfort her.
Unfortunately, he can't do anything yet; doing so now would make him a philanderer. He can only proceed gradually, slowly playing the chords of her heart.
Yun Jiao heard him say that and could only turn her head.
Jiang Youzhi didn't leave, and Yun Jiao couldn't keep talking to the wall. Fine, let it be.
