Xu Xiangyang knelt in front of the door, nearly losing all hope; at this moment, from behind him, he felt as if someone was embracing him…familiar warmth and softness that made him unconsciously hold his breath.
He could feel a pair of tender palms slowly moving upward, eventually gently covering the back of his hand.
He couldn't see her or touch her; he could only confirm her presence through a deep-seated intuition, and a gentle yet playful voice reached his ears:
"I'm here."
"It really is you, Qing Yue." Xu Xiangyang took a deep breath, "How come you are here..."
"Hehe, what a strange question to ask. This place is my memory, my consciousness space; I am the master here."
Zhu Qingyue answered with a laugh. After a moment, as if she had discovered something, her mood became very pleasant, even the tone of her question lifted cheerfully:
"Hey, Xiangyang, did you cry?"
"No, I didn't."