After drinking half a cup of oatmeal, her stomach warmed up and didn't hurt like before. She found a blanket and tossed it onto the sofa, then curled up inside it.
At five feet seven, lying on a loveseat, her legs dangled out halfway. She lay on her side, staring at the ceiling in a daze.
The suite was very quiet, occasionally the sound of a man's long fingers tapping a keyboard reached her ears, and strangely, it made her feel somewhat at ease.
Exhausted from the afternoon's activities, plus the argument earlier, listening to his rhythmic typing, drowsiness overtook her, she yawned, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
After a long time, Leng Youchen stopped, and looked thoughtfully at the woman on the sofa.
The blanket rose and fell gently, her breathing was even, she was already asleep.
Curled up on the sofa, half of her foot exposed, toes rounded, glowing in the light, very cute. Yet her temper was like a stone in a pit, smelly and hard.
