Wei Zhao glanced lightly: "Take your hand away."
Yu Tingwan, being very agreeable, slowly withdrew her hand.
Then she watched as Wei Zhao closed the window.
With a 'bang', not too light nor too heavy.
Yu Tingwan blinked thoughtfully.
She walked forward in silence.
In just a moment, Wei Zhao saw someone peeking through the half-open door.
Then she walked into the room.
The girl was wearing the simplest and plainest cotton clothes, but the tear mole at the corner of her eye added a touch of allure.
Yu Tingwan used a pair of long tongs to stir the charcoal in the basin, making it burn more vigorously, before coming in front of Wei Zhao.
She raised her hand.
She didn't hit him.
Instead, she grasped the man's hand firmly.
Sure enough, it was cold.
Wei Zhao's body seemed to never warm up.
Yu Tingwan furrowed her brows, "Why didn't you say earlier?"
Wei Zhao: ?
Yu Tingwan: "It's cold outside, and the wind is strong at night. You should've closed the window earlier."
