In the darkness, there was a soft sound, but Shi Nian was startled.
The footsteps circled behind her. She could feel that person looking at her back from a certain distance, neither too close nor too far.
But at least, there was no hostility.
She took a deep breath, intending to turn her head. But the owner of those footsteps was faster, already three steps away behind her.
Then came a gentle and low command: "Don't move."
The man's voice came through the darkness and fog, hoarse, yet inexplicably stirred her heart.
She listened intently, trying to identify the voice. It felt inexplicably familiar, inexplicably stirring her heartstrings, yet—she couldn't quite place it.
She inhaled quietly: "Who are you? A villager, or the owner of that photography blog online?"
.
