Gan Yuan's nails had dug deeply into the back of Huangfu Jue's hand, but he seemed utterly oblivious, his intertwined fingers not loosening in the slightest.
She bit her lip, relaxed her fingers, and simply let him hold her hand.
They had done more intimate things; what was hand-holding in comparison?
As he led her through the crowded street, his arm frequently tensed, pulling her behind him to protect her from being jostled by the passersby.
At first, her fingers remained stiffly extended, not touching his, but gradually they began to relax.
As they moved forward, her fingertips inadvertently brushed against the back of his hand, which sent her thoughts uncontrollably drifting back to six years ago.
That night, as he led her by the hand out of the relentless snowfall, it was just like this, with fingers spread and tightly interlocked with hers.
"This scar, it's from back then, isn't it?"