The wind at night was not as searing as it had been during the day, gently brushing past, bringing a trace of coolness, just like Ao Qi's unceasing murmurs.
"Thankfully, I had everyone leave," Feng Yun thought.
If Ao Qi had said all this in front of so many people, it would probably have been difficult to settle things down.
"Xiaoqi, lift your head and look at me..."
Ao Qi raised his head, tears swirling in his eyes.
Feng Yun smiled slightly, her eyes that had seen two lifetimes' worth of vicissitudes as if they could understand everything in the world. What they conveyed was not the anger of being offended, nor the shyness of a woman being confessed to by a man, but rather the calmness forged by years and storms, and the wisdom and comprehension that only a mature woman possessed.
After a long silence, when Ao Qi had stopped crying, she bent down and handed him a handkerchief.
"Feeling any better?"
Her voice was gentle and clear.