January 12, 2024, Friday, cloudy, high of 24°C.
At 5:30 in the morning, the sky was still dark.
Only a small night-light remained on in the bedroom, its glow soft and quiet.
The air was very still; the even, faint sound of breathing could be heard beside the pillow.
Tang Song turned slightly onto his side.
Liu Qingning was still asleep.
She was curled up under the covers, only her round, adorable profile showing, the wings of her nose fluttering gently with each breath.
She had probably been too tired last night. She was sleeping deeply, her thick lashes trembling lightly now and then.
The ponytail she had tied up had come completely loose, her long black hair spread a little messily over the milky-white pillow.
One corner of the quilt had slipped down, revealing her small, rounded shoulder. A few obvious red marks still remained on her fair skin.
Memories of last night appeared in the darkness.
Her trembling, the way she nestled against him, the way she pressed close to his ear and cried out, in a tearful voice, "Xiao Song."
It had not been conquest. It was more like a gentle mingling in which they confirmed each other.
An unprecedented, weighty sense of satisfaction slowly filled Tang Song's chest.
It was the feeling of finally completing a reunion with White Moonlight in the fullest sense.
It was not only their relationship drawing closer, but also the final closing of the circle between heart and heart.
Understanding and emotions aligned in the same instant, making it seem as if they had crossed the rift in time.
As if they had returned once more to the youth when their souls were most intimate, most undefended.
Her expression, her reactions, every word she said—
They were all still the real,