The faint light of dawn shone through the window, illuminating the room. Drizzling rain fell against the glass without making a sound. This time of day was always quiet and serene.
Luo Chuan woke up in bed, but he still did not feel like getting up. Maybe it was because he had gone to sleep too late last night. He seemed to have been writing a novel—yes, he had been writing a novel.
His thoughts were hazy, reality and dreams tangled together. As he woke, the memories that had lain dormant swiftly returned.
For some reason, Luo Chuan felt a little cramped beside him, and somewhat stuffy, as though he could barely breathe. He seemed to be holding something soft in his arms, and a faint, pleasant fragrance lingered beneath his nose. Unable to resist, he reached out and touched it. The feel was quite nice.
Luo Chuan opened his still-misty eyes and saw a face right before him. Her eyes were closed as she nestled in his arms, dressed in a snow-white nightgown, her expression peaceful as she remained immersed in sleep, holding him tightly.
They were very close. Luo Chuan could clearly feel her warm breath brushing against him.
Wait, this was not his room, was it?
Luo Chuan looked around. The surroundings were entirely unfamiliar. A barrier formed by an array had turned the place into an independent space. It was not large, but it could not be called cramped either.
He then instinctively looked out the window. The sky was still dim, and the hazy scenery beyond the curtain of rain sped rapidly backward.
He remembered. He was on a train now.
Last night, he had suddenly gotten the idea of traveling with Yao Ziyan, and they had simply set off. Perhaps because it was an