Her eyes quickly glanced at the corner of Ye Fanshuang's desk, then quickly retracted, with a hint of guilty conscience.
The last one. It was the postcard with only three words written on the back, which she had traced over several times.
Ye Fanshuang's hand holding the cup paused imperceptibly. The air seemed to stagnate for a moment.
She didn't answer immediately, staring intently at the girl on the screen, her eyes flickering, her cheeks flushed, and her awkward, tentative, and shy expression.
In those cold eyes, something was slowly settling and condensing, like the power accumulated under the ice.
Time passed second by second, and each second seemed to be stretched out.
Su Xinghui's heartbeat gradually accelerated with the silence, pounding against her chest, and her cheeks were surprisingly hot. She almost regretted her impulsive question.
Just when she was about to give up the silent pressure and wanted to say "Forget it, just pretend I didn't ask" -
Ye Fanshuang finally moved.
She didn't look at Su Xinghui, but turned her head slightly, her eyes once again falling on the pile of postcards in the corner of the desk. Her movements were slow, with an almost deliberate calmness.
The bony, white hand reached out again.
This time, there was no more hasty cover-up.
Her fingertips passed over the heavy dark blue crystal paperweight and landed precisely and gently on the top postcard - the postcard with the back facing up, three words written on it, and the edges being rubbed to the point of being frayed.
The fingertips, with an indescribable cherishment and an unmistakable strength, slowly, slowly pressed on the three words.
Not covering.
Gently, press down.
As if confirming their existence, responding to the weight they carry.
Then, Ye Fanshuang raised his eyes.
His gaze penetrated the screen and directly into Su Xinghui's eyes, which were wide open with shock and anticipation.
Her voice was still clear, like the sound of jade colliding, but a little deeper than before. With a calmness and determination that penetrated the soul, every word clearly struck Su Wanqing's heart:
"Um."
“I see.”
The fingertips pressed on the postcard, and gently stroked the slightly raised edge of the paper, almost imperceptibly.
Su Xinghui's breathing completely stopped. She felt as if her heart was being tightly grasped by an invisible hand, and then gently released. A scalding heat instantly surged through her limbs and bones.
She stared blankly at Ye Fanshuang's calm face on the screen, at her fingertips pressing on the postcard, and at the deep, calm sea in her eyes that seemed to be able to accommodate everything.
All words seemed pale and powerless at this moment. A huge, pure joy exploded in her heart like fireworks, so brilliant that it made her dizzy.
She forgot about the figurine, forgot about complaining, forgot about everything, and just grinned, showing a silly yet brilliant smile to the person on the other side of the screen.
That smile is brighter than any light outside the window.
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