In the dead of night, Yan Luoxi sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Yanling's sleeping face. Memories came flooding back, bringing with them a heart-wrenching pain. She blamed herself, wondering if they had never met, would all these terrible things have happened?
Yan Luoxi got up and walked out of the bedroom. She sat on the sofa with her mobile phone in hand but, after a long while, couldn't bring herself to make the call. Clutching a pillow to her chest, she leaned back on the sofa. Her nerves had been on edge all day, and as soon as she relaxed, fatigue overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep on the couch.
After a while, the bedroom door opened, and a small figure stood in the hallway for a long time. Finally plucking up the courage, he walked over to the sofa and stood beside it, looking down at the sleeping Yan Luoxi, he pouted and muttered, "Such an ugly sleeping posture."
