Ji Huan said guardedly, "You made this hairpin yourself, and the sentiment is precious, but I copied that book by hand, too. That makes us even, so no need for thanks on either side."
Song Jing froze for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
But seeing Ji Huan cherish the hairpin, unable to put it down, and hearing her say she liked it, an indescribable feeling bloomed in Song Jing's heart.
It was a soft, warm feeling, at once bittersweet and swelling, that filled him with the urge to lay bare the secrets of his heart to her.
It took a great deal of effort to push the impulse down, so he changed the subject.
"I only learned about your housewarming when I returned this afternoon. I… I'm only just now coming to congratulate you. You aren't angry, are you?"
