Nightfall, Ye Siheng grasped her delicate hand and took a deep breath.
His voice was husky, yet enchanting enough to bewitch one's mind: "A'li, I wish tomorrow were already the twentieth of April."
Nanli lazily responded and closed her eyes once again.
She had completely passed out from intoxication.
Ye Siheng gazed at her intently for a while before carrying her back to the bed and tucking her in.
Soon after he left, the fragrance of incense quickly dissipated the scent of alcohol.
The mark on Nanli's forehead gradually faded, and she quickly fell into a deep slumber.
The next morning, she woke up early as usual.
Her head throbbed faintly, and upon seeing the neatly folded red headscarf on the small table, she vaguely remembered Ye Siheng's visit last night.
She supported her forehead, only recalling that Ye Siheng had wiped her hands and feet, with no other impressions left.