That night, after going up and down the mountain, making repeated attempts at jumping off the cliff which failed, and playing mind games with this man for so long, Gu Jiayin was exhausted. She cried herself to sleep.
There were still traces of dried tears on her face, making her look nothing like a woman who had undergone special training.
Sheng Qianchi, however, could not fall asleep.
He lowered his eyes to look at the woman nestled in his arms, gently kissing her lips and cheeks.
Her skin, nurtured from a young age in an affluent family, was exceptionally good, as smooth and white as a peeled egg, tempting him to take a bite.
Sheng Qianchi kissed her lingeringly and gently, afraid of waking her up and provoking another fit of anger.
She slept quietly in his arms, like a porcelain doll, needing his protection.
It wasn't until later in the night that he found a pajama to put on, tidied her pajamas, and held her close as he slowly closed his eyes.
