PREVIEW

... int smell of tobacco, mixed with a hint of clean grass after rain, poured into the tip of her nose.

When she looked up, she saw Shen Yichong and his usual poker face, holding the steamed bun Shen Rui in his arms. He stood in front of the sofa wearing his ordinary, stripped, gray clothes for everyday.

“The bathtub is ready.” Shen Yichong spoke in a clipped tone, his eyebrows threatening to knot at the middle. “Get up.”

The little steamed bun in his arms raised his head, ready to ...

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