Yun Ya's nose suddenly felt a bit sour.
The cold despair in the dream was vivid, yet the warmth in front of her was like spring; her body was soft and comforting. Overwhelmed with joy, she turned around and threw herself into his arms.
"Brother Yan."
His familiar scent filled her nose, and the call in her ear was the one from her dream; everything was so real.
She hugged him tightly, her fingers almost clawing his body to the point of drawing blood, laughing and crying simultaneously.
Yan Song let her cry, silently accompanying her. Sometimes comfort was useless; being her support during her tears, he was always there no matter the circumstances.
Thinking of something, Yun Ya suddenly pushed him away, her face pale, "I... I killed her. She cursed me in the dream... Everything has come true. I killed my own mother...."
