As Song Qingya sat resting in her chair, she watched him eat and couldn't help but recall the rumors about his large family in Beijing.
'It must be a result of his upbringing, right?'
She thought to herself.
Leaning back in her chair, she watched Fei Jin tidy the blankets on the bed, folding them into a perfectly neat square, like a "block of tofu."
Sensing a hint of hesitation in her gaze, Fei Jin, who was putting away clothes, looked up and said gently, "It's alright. Just rest. I can always tidy up again later."
'Are you always like this, whether in reality or in my dreams?'
An indescribable emotion welled up in her heart, and she felt the bridge of her nose tingle.
But the Fei Jin who had appeared in her dream had temples frosted with white.
They were clearly the same soul, with the same face, so why was there such a huge difference?
Even though they were now as close as two people could be.
Song Qingya still felt it was difficult to truly reach the depths of his heart.
