"Nanjue, don't you want her to wake up?"
Mo Nanjue's handsome face was filled with a gloomy intensity. He clenched his fists tightly, revealing bulging veins on the back of his hands. The man stopped his motion; though he didn't want to look, his gaze inevitably drifted toward the screen.
On the screen, the woman's soft body was held tightly in the man's embrace. It was evident that he hugged her very tight, yet very gently. His raised hand softly caressed Tong Ran's hair draping down her back again and again, his thin lips close to her ear, whispering something in a low voice.
It looked so beautiful.
It was like a painting, serene and tranquil, making one not want to disturb them.
Mo Nanjue tilted his head, the short brown hair slightly disheveled due to his hurried movements. He stared intently at the screen, his initially raised leg coming to an abrupt halt.
He suddenly felt he didn't have the right to come over, didn't have the right to pull them apart.
