As they talked, another gust of wind rose over the lake, swirling around the small boat and bringing with it a heavy mist that struck their faces directly.
Meng Yuhuai turned his head to look at Hua Xiaomai, laid down the bamboo pole he was using to propel the boat, and reached out to gently brush aside the damp strands of hair covering her face, smiling softly as he said, "What did you want to say?"
"Um..." Hua Xiaomai squinted at him, "That night at the inn, there was a commotion downstairs; I knew you were concerned about me being frightened and not being able to sleep, so you stayed up all night in the room. At that moment, I thought I must thank you properly, but afterward, I realized there are more things I should thank you for than just that one. For instance..."
She stopped abruptly, thought for a moment, looked up at Meng Yuhuai's face, then shook her head, "No, it's better left unsaid."
The man couldn't help but laugh: "What's wrong with you?"
