The corner of the sofa.
A slender figure leaned against the side of the sofa, hugging her knees, eyes tightly shut, lips occasionally opening and closing.
Ya Chen had long been awakened by her sleep talk.
Sometimes she mumbled, sometimes she whispered quietly.
But the voice was too soft to hear what she was saying.
He followed her voice, got off the sofa, and found her beside it.
She was actually sleeping here.
He frowned slightly, intending to move her onto the sofa, but as he couldn't determine the position for a moment, his fingertips inadvertently touched the strands of hair on her forehead, feeling them damp.
His facial muscles twitched as he gently stroked her cheek along her hair.
It was all tears.
"Chen." The name she whispered in her dream had always been his.
His heart paused for a beat, lifting his hand to unconsciously touch her cheek.
This was the first time he used his own way to "see" what she looked like.
He had once imagined the appearance of this wife.
