The night was cold and deep, the temperature had plummeted to below minus six or seven degrees, and Mrs. Herd's breath turned into white mist as she leaned her face against Anthony Davis's chest.
Mrs. Herd's face was flushed, it was unclear whether from the heat or the cold, clutching the front of Anthony Davis's shirt as she had been running just moments ago and was a bit out of breath.
Hearing Anthony Davis's words, she felt her breathing become even more rapid, her heart thumping very quickly.
It was always like this, every time he spoke, it made her feel like she suddenly turned into a sixteen or seventeen-year-old Young Girl, enjoying his pampering, enjoying the warmth and love he provided.
Anthony Davis grasped Mrs. Herd's cold hand: "Didn't I tell you to wear something thicker?"
Mrs. Herd looked up at Anthony Davis, her eyes bright, especially on such a night, exceptionally luminous.
