Next afternoon
"Hmm..."
Jun Moyan slowly woke up, his brows furrowed tightly.
He raised his hand and pressed it against his aching temple.
After pressing it for a while, he felt slightly better and slowly opened his eyes.
In his view was the all-too-familiar ceiling.
His eyes stung uncomfortably from the ceiling's glare, so Jun Moyan blinked them shut briefly, then opened them again.
With his mind still foggy and swollen, Jun Moyan stared at the ceiling for a while, unable to recall what happened last night, nor noticing anything amiss.
It wasn't until he attempted to lift his other hand to throw off the blanket and get out of bed that he noticed something pressing on his arm.
Jun Moyan reflexively turned his head, only to be stunned at the sight of Wen Xiao'ai sleeping on his arm, looking aggrieved.
His already unclear mind went completely blank.
Little, little Xiaoguai?
Was he dreaming?
Jun Moyan stared blankly at Wen Xiao'ai, unresponsive for a long time.
