The bedroom had grown dark as evening settled over the villa. The soft, silvery moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle, ethereal patterns across the rumpled bedsheets and the three figures resting peacefully on Mo Xingxue's bed.
The air was warm and still, carrying the faint, comforting scent of the day's outdoor adventure—sun-warmed skin, a hint of fresh grass from the zoo, and the subtle floral notes of Mo Xingxue's perfume mixed with the clean, milky scent of little Mo Yan.
Outside, the distant sounds of the night—crickets chirping softly and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze—created a peaceful backdrop.
Su Wanyan stirred slowly, her enhanced senses pulling her from a light doze. She became aware of the warmth surrounding her: Mo Xingxue's head resting trustingly on her left arm, using it as a pillow, while her right arm was wrapped securely around little Mo Yan.
