She was carried into the car, still deep asleep in Zhou Luchen's arms, her hair completely buried in his chest. A strand of her hair had caught on a button of his shirt. Zhou Luchen supported her back with one hand while leisurely disentangling it with the other.
She shifted slightly in his arms. Her long, closed eyelashes trembled; she looked sleepy and pitiable.
Zhou Luchen's expression was composed as his slender fingers elegantly and meticulously unfastened the button. He looked down at her, displeased by her body's incessant quivering and its sensitivity.
"Don't move," he commanded in a low voice.
She would murmur a soft "Mhm" and snuggle obediently against him.
Zhuang Ming glanced at the rearview mirror, then closed the partition and concentrated on driving towards Yunding No. 1.
Shen Jing was sleepy but not too troublesome; the only thing that irked Zhou Luchen was her refusal to use a pillow. She only wanted his embrace, holding on tight as if afraid he would drop her.
