Over the years, he had gotten into the habit of wandering aimlessly in unfamiliar places, like a piece of drifting duckweed, with no sense of belonging. Just like a walking corpse.
"Mmm..."
An Yin, who was deep asleep, let out a series of soft murmurs, then her head tilted and she fell heavily onto Meng Heming's shoulder.
By the time he realized, he felt a warm body temperature spreading through his shoulder to his entire body. This feeling made his previously barren heart feel extremely full, as if the young girl leaning on his shoulder was his entire world, bringing a wave of strong emotion within him.
Meng Heming carefully turned his head, afraid of waking her up. Her lively eyes were already closed, yet he couldn't forget the eyes that, when open, looked so much like someone else's.
Perhaps he was too entranced by his gaze upon her, Meng Heming hadn't noticed the faint bloodshot streaks in his deep eyes.
