Speaking of which, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. Luo Xi raised her brow, seeming dissatisfied with his superficial gesture, and rare coquettishness erged: "That kiss is awfully perfunctory."
Yan Fengchi’s eyes crinkled with laughter as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. With an almost sacred focus, he held her head gently and bestowed upon her the most fervent and passionate kiss that carried all his feelings.
Outside the window, rain pattered relentlessly against the glass, yet his enchantress, his Luo Xi, had sohow composed a symphony in this single kiss that made him forget everything in the world beyond her.
He kissed deeply, offering not rely a kiss, but his unwavering, profound love.
"I heard from Chenxing that next weekend is your birthday?"
His lips remained on hers, their mingled warmth lingering between them. The touch was shallow yet carried the simring edge of intensity.
"I never celebrate birthdays." Luo Xi lifted her head and gazed directly into his eyes: "You don’t need to prepare any birthday gifts for either."
"Never celebrate? Never, ever?"
That truly caught him by surprise: "Why?"
There was a fleeting shimr in Luo Xi’s eyes, and a surge of ache rose within her heart. This witch-like woman waved it off lightly, shaking her head: "It’s not that I’ve never celebrated. It’s just that after I turned seven, I stopped."
"My birthday... is the anniversary of my parents’ death."
"On this day, I only observe their death anniversary."
The faint sound of her voice entered Yan Fengchi’s ears, tugging at his heartstrings.
He lowered his head, unable to imagine the tragic story hidden behind those words. His heart ached; he was filled with compassion. Gently cupping her face, he planted soft kisses, tenderly tracing: "What happened? Can you tell ?"
She desperately tilted her head back, trying to coax the liquid rising in her eyes to retreat. Turning slightly, her gaze fell on the glass window clouded with mist from rainwater. In the end, her lips curved faintly: "It’s nothing."
"Luo Xi..." Yan Fengchi softly called her na.
"Really, it’s nothing."
He tightly embraced her, his hand gliding along the sensual curve of her back. Each caress felt like a silent assurance, gradually loosening her instinctively tensed fra in response to his soothing touch: "Luo Xi, I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?"
She looked up at him.
"So, no matter what it is, no matter the grievance, you can confide in ."
"I’m not holding any grievances, and I don’t have anything to confide."
"But I want to know—I want to know every experience you’ve lived." Holding her tightly, he kissed the strands of her hair: "If only I had t you earlier, how wonderful that would be." Earlier, at a ti when she hadn’t needed to learn to be strong. If he had been by her side back then, he wouldn’t have let her beco strong; he’d make sure she stayed as simple, as innocent, as entirely dependent as Chenxing, relying solely on him—Yan Fengchi. And if so, Yan Fengchi vowed that in this lifeti, he’d ensure she lived free from worry... Yet, on second thought, if Luo Xi had been that kind of girl when she appeared in front of him, would she have truly piqued his interest?
Suddenly, he chuckled!
People are such strange and complex creatures, aren’t they?
A man and a woman—eting, falling in love, coming to know each other. If the timing were wrong, they might rely pass one another by. And yet, the heart might still feel a faint sting of regret. "This year, could I join you in visiting your parents? Pay my respects and tell them that I wish to protect their daughter. Tell , with my talent and looks, do you think I’d win their hearts at once?"
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