Amidst the tinkling sound, he saw Shen Jintang's earrings swaying gently with her laughter, which disturbed his thoughts.
“Actually, there’s still a flaw in the oil lamp trick.” Shen Jintang suddenly poked the back of his hand with the pen, drawing a crescent arc in his instinctively outstretched palm. “If the murderer is really left-handed, the wick should be three inches to the west.”
Gu Zhixing was shocked; he had never imagined that someone could read his favorite book so carefully.
His voice trembled slightly as he asked with a hint of expectation, "You've seen it all?"
Shen Jintang smiled slightly and looked at Gu Zhixing: "I want to understand you."
As night deepened, the two talked quietly in the bedroom, reminiscing about every book Gu Zhixing had ever read.
The stories and plots in those books seemed to become their unique language, and their feelings for each other were quietly communicated between the lines.
Gu Zhixing's heart was filled with tenderness. He had never imagined that someone would go to such lengths just to understand him, and to be so in tune with his feelings.
Shen Jintang's voice was soft and melodious, like a babbling brook under the moonlight, carrying a kind of intoxicating magic.
Gu Zhixing listened intently, occasionally interjecting with his own insights. Their voices echoed softly in the room, warm and comforting, as if the whole world had quieted down, leaving only their presence.
The two chatted from the desk to the bed.
Gu Zhixing remained in high spirits, but Shen Jintang's voice gradually lowered.
Moonlight streamed through the window and fell on Shen Jintang's face, giving her a soft, silvery glow.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly, as if she were capturing some beautiful scene in her dream, even her dream carried a hint of a smile.
Gu Zhixing gazed at her sleeping face, his heart filled with tenderness, as if the whole world was filled with this tenderness.
He gently reached out his hand, trying to touch her fingers.
The moment their fingertips touched, Shen Jintang frowned slightly, turned over, but still did not wake up.
Gu Zhixing smiled slightly, withdrew his hand, and quietly lay down on the prepared floor mat, watching her back.
Her breathing was even and steady, conveying a silent tranquility.
The night was as still as water, gently enveloping the entire room.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
