On the second day, Mo Ziye woke up later than Qin Qingqing.
To be exact, two minutes later than her.
He opened his eyes when Qingqing was getting out of bed. Seeing her being so careful, afraid of waking him up, his heart softened, and he lightly parted his thin lips, calling her name with a slightly hoarse voice, "Qingqing."
Qingqing paused her movements.
She turned her face, her eyes smiling at him, "Good morning, Brother Ziyi."
"Good morning."
Mo Ziye's lips curled into a joyful arc.
To open his eyes and see the woman he loves, for Mo Ziye, this is the happiest and most fulfilling feeling.
Maybe it was because she just woke up, Qingqing's cheeks, as smooth as jade, were flushed with a pink blush like a thin layer of powder. Her eyelashes fluttered, looking indescribably fresh and lovely.
She has always been the most beautiful woman in his eyes.
"Brother Ziyi, why are you looking at me like that?"
Qingqing was a little confused by his gaze.
