The distance between them shrank in an instant.
The boy's warm breath ghosted past her ear, tickling her skin. He lingered for a few seconds before pulling back slightly.
The stage lights didn't reach the back row. Long, slender fingers tucked a stray lock of hair from the side of Jiang Qingli's face.
Yuan Shimo suddenly spoke. "Qingli."
She looked up at the sound of his voice, her expression a little dazed. She blinked her long, curly lashes, and when he didn't elaborate, she tilted her head in confusion.
'So cute.'
'Like a kitten.'
'An innocent, beautiful kitten who would be adored by all, even without doing a thing.'
Yuan Shimo's lips curled, and his gaze softened.
Realizing his own reaction was a bit much, he cleared his throat and explained, "Your hair... it was a little messy."
Jiang Qingli thanked him quietly. "The wind must have messed it up on the way here. Next time, you can just tell me."
