Mei Wanying stood by the bed, bent over, and gently placed her daughter on the inner side.
Afraid Ling might wake up, she held the position, one hand braced on the edge of the bed while the other gently patted the little one's body.
The moment she was on the bed, Ling began to whimper, squirming as if pricked by needles. Her sleep was far from peaceful.
Mei Wanying dared not leave. She just kept patting her daughter, humming a soft lullaby.
Her dark hair, tied with a silk ribbon, slid to one side of her shoulder and cascaded down. The ends brushed across Pei Yan's sharp chin, grazed his neck, and finally came to rest on his chest.
With every gentle pat from Mei Wanying, her silken hair swayed slightly.
The man watched Mei Wanying, his gaze unabashed.
His expression was focused, his eyes swirling with an emotion he could not suppress.
His long fingers twitched, yet he didn't dare to touch her soft, dark tresses.
He was afraid of startling Mei Wanying, who was so close to him.
