Yan Xinxin blinked lightly, questioning herself, but no answers came.
She reached out with her fingertips, brushing softly over Mo Chuxi's facial contours. Her heart suddenly clenched in pain, and her fingers reflexively retracted.
Yan Xinxin, stop thinking about it.
No matter how much you think, there will never be an answer.
Because you don't even have complete memories, only fragmented pieces and a few words that are like dreams but not quite dreams.
You can't even be certain who you truly are, or who your real parents are...
Yan Xinxin clenched her small fist, forcing herself not to think any further.
She shifted slightly, intending to get out of bed, but Mo Chuxi's arm was tightly wrapped around her. She looked down at his restraining arm and furrowed her brows in helpless frustration.
Yan Xinxin lifted her gaze, her eyes falling on the serene sleeping face before her in the soft morning light.
