The room was exceptionally quiet, the bandaged Song Qingchun, half-kneeling on the ground and not getting up, stared at his hand with her eyelids down for a while, then slowly turned her head and looked at his face.

Under the dim yellow light, the contours of his face were more and more delicately outlined.

Because of his drunkenness, his already fair complexion looked as clear as white porcelain.

His whole person looks like a silent sculpture, his facial features are perfect and there are no flaws or blemishes, even if the eyebrows flow with tired wine and tiredness, it is still beautiful and intoxicating.

She hadn't seen him for three months, and she could see his face almost every day, and even many times in her sleep in the middle of the night, she could paint his face completely, but even though she remembered that when she looked at it so closely in the bone marrow, she still lost her mind and soul for it.

The picture seemed to be as still as it was, he fell asleep quietly, and she watched silently.

As time passed, the hangover medicine he took exerted its medicinal properties, relieving the discomfort of drunkenness, his constricted eyebrows gradually relaxed, and his well-defined face looked more and more dull and dazzling.

Song Qingchun's gaze on Su Zhinian became more and more focused, his eyebrows and eyes became tender, and even the corners of his lips couldn't help but raise a faint arc.

She couldn't help but reach out and slowly poke into his face.

She was afraid that her touch would wake him up, and her fingertips trembled violently, and when they were about to touch his cheek, they stopped timidly.

She looked at him, swallowed hard, as if secretly giving herself a great encouragement, and then leaned her fingertips over little by little, and then touched his cheek very lightly.

The touch that seemed to come out of nowhere, bringing up a strong current, made her heartbeat leak suddenly, and her fingertips trembled violently, and the fingers were retracted, and she paused for a long time before touching them again.

His sleeping face was still very quiet, and she was a little bolder, and her fingertips slowly moved to his eyebrows, following the shape of his eyebrows, gently tracing them, and then falling on his eyelashes, on the straight wings of his nose, on the handsome eye sockets, on the side of his face with a smooth heartbeat, and finally on his beautiful thin lips......

His lips were so soft and warm that her fingertips lingered for a long time, and she was reluctant to move them.

I don't know how long it took, the dark night outside the window was a little white, and his breathing became completely long and even, and Song Qingchun turned his eyes that had been staring at him.

He's been sobering up for most of the time, and he hasn't vomited yet, and he definitely won't vomit again, and it's almost dawning outside the window, and she should leave...... He said that she would never appear in front of him again.

Her mind suddenly remembered the scene of her confession to him three months ago, and a vague sadness appeared in her beautiful clear eyes.

She actually didn't want to leave at all, she really hoped that time would freeze, that he could sleep so quietly for a long time, so that she could stay by his side quietly and unscrupulously.

But this is only her hope after all......

Song Qingchun's eyes were covered with a layer of mist, she lowered her eyes, suppressed the sadness in her heart, and slowly stood up from the ground.