Listening to her breathing gradually become steady, the ever-pretending-to-sleep Fu Nancheng slowly opened those deep eyes, his cold gaze falling somewhat dazedly on Qiao Mo's small palm-sized face.
Her face was small, with slightly chubby cheeks and lashes that weren't very long but were lush and curled, and a tiny pink mouth slightly pouted. Her sleeping appearance made one reluctant to disturb her in the slightest.
The large hand still bearing a needle gently lifted, slowly reaching toward Qiao Mo's cheek, involuntarily wanting to touch her.
But as soon as the cool fingertip touched her cheek, it felt like an electric shock, suddenly waking him up. He slowly withdrew his fingers, clenching them into a fist as if desperately suppressing something.
Looking at the woman sleeping soundly next to the bed, his eyes flashed with a hint of complexity, eventually lowering his gaze slowly.
