Manuel Ink didn't answer her question, still pulling her along inside.
Passing through the long lavender path, he finally stopped at a place on the hillside.
The night in South France, with a sky untainted by any impurities.
Standing on the slope, reaching out a hand, it felt as if moonlight could slip between fingers.
Summer Sutton didn't understand why he brought her here, or what he intended to do.
Manuel Ink seemed slightly intoxicated, and when he looked at Summer Sutton, his dark eyes were hazy, as if covered by a thin mist.
Just by gazing at Summer Sutton, it seemed there were stars in his eyes.
This made Summer Sutton pause.
"Manuel, what's wrong?"
Manuel Ink did not answer her. He continued to stare at her.
His gaze rested on her face, looking back and forth countless times, as if trying to imprint her in his heart.
After a long while, Summer Sutton heard his voice.
Clear, in the tranquil night on the hillside, it was somewhat intoxicating.
