Jiang Yan Hai naturally would not refuse such a request. This was their private world, and their time together.
Early the next morning, Jiang Yan Hai woke up early. He had slept very well the night before. It had nothing to do with physical exhaustion; mainly, he was sleeping in his own home, and his mind was completely relaxed.
The bloodshed, conspiracies, and schemes he had encountered outside—none of it had anything to do with this place. Jiang Yan Hai had cast all of it to the back of his mind.
Even in her sleep, Li Ruo Bai clung tightly to his chest. Her soft long hair was spread over the pillow, and her smooth shoulders were still exposed. Jiang Yan Hai gently tugged the quilt over and tucked her completely beneath it.
Her large eyes were covered by long lashes. The beauty mark at the corner of her eye was the only adornment on her flawless fair face, as though heaven had found her too perfect and deliberately left a mark upon her face.
Her nose was high and delicate, her lips rosy. Jiang Yan Hai felt his heart soften. This was his wife. He simply watched her quietly, utterly unwilling to look away.
She let out tiny snores, not very loud, yet inexplicably adorable.
Jiang Yan Hai rarely wasted time, but at this moment, he did not want to think too much. Let time quietly slip away like this.
Perhaps people truly had some kind of connection. Jiang Yan Hai did not know how long he had watched her. When she groggily opened her eyes, he could not help but smile.
Seeing Jiang Yan Hai's smile, Li Ruo Bai said nothing. She merely snuggled closer, draping her whole body over him and pressing her face tightly against his