Xu Xiuxiu slept soundly and deeply, only to wake up at night. The beauty of the evening outside was accompanied by the occasional sparse chirping of crickets from the yard. Little Song Chengguang had already been fed early by Song Yuanhuan and rushed off to dreamland. When Xu Xiuxiu walked into the living room, all she saw was Song Yuanhuan. He sat quietly on a chair, reading the evening paper he had in his hand. The tall figure appeared exceptionally cold and handsome in the dim light.
There was no denying that Song Yuanhuan was the kind of man whose silhouette alone could take one's breath away with its inherent charm.
