Guan Yi, bare-chested, got into bed and embraced the cold Ye Qiyun from behind, his solid chest pressed tightly against her back, separated only by a thin white T-shirt—one that belonged to him. He used his body warmth to warm her cold body. A man's body is always so warm, so hot, like the source of fire she needed, ironing her skin through the fabric and delivering warmth into her blood and body.