A perfect, unspoken understanding formed between them.
That evening, after all the lights in the room were turned off, everything was plunged into darkness.
Such a dark environment was perfect for doing... certain things.
When Song Qingya had seen the scars on his body during the day, a million questions had surfaced in her mind.
But she had forced herself to hold back all day. Finally, as they were getting ready for bed, she couldn't resist any longer. "Fei Jin, when did you get all these scars?"
Fei Jin's voice faltered as he seemed to get lost in his memories. Then, he said faintly, "It's all in the past. There's nothing worth mentioning."
Fei Jin never spoke of his own heroic deeds.
Song Qingya searched the original owner's memories but couldn't find any useful clues.
All the original owner's memories held was a single, hazy impression.
It had happened by chance. Fei Jin had just gotten out of the shower.
