All he remembered was that many times when he fell asleep, Luo Qingyuan would hold him.

As the temperature inside the car gradually rose, Duan Ye slowed down the car's speed.

Back at Moon Bay, he didn't wake her, but instead carried her to her room himself.

Perhaps she was too tired, because Luo Qingyuan didn't even open her eyes.

So he quickly washed up and went to bed, pulling his wife into his arms from behind.

Smelling her delicate fragrance, Duan Ye felt an unprecedented sense of peace.

He could live like that for the rest of his life.

He was grateful that when he looked back, he still had a chance to make amends to his lover.

Luo Qingyuan turned around groggily, snuggled into his arms, and smelled his scent. She quickly fell asleep again.

Duan Ye chuckled and kissed her forehead: "Goodnight, wife."

The next day, at eight o'clock in the morning.

It's another lovely weekend. Even with the curtains drawn, you can still see the sunlight filtering through.

However, when Duan Ye woke up, his wife was not beside him.

So he washed up, put on his pajamas, and went downstairs.

Yang Li was preparing breakfast when she saw him come down and called out, "Sir."

Where is Qingyuan?

"The back garden."

So Duan Ye went straight to the back garden.

The maid sighed, "The master really adores his wife. Every morning when he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for her."

"Yes, I envy this kind of love."

"Indeed, there's a saying that's very true."

"What did you say?"

"A romantic is only born into a wealthy and noble family."