Li Yuntang smiled slightly, closed his eyes in a quiet air, and didn't respond.
He liked that Yan Xiaye had her own opinions, even though, in his view, they were adorably childish.
Perhaps because he had grown up in the Li Family, the complex family relations had revealed his precociousness from a young age. To him, love or the lack thereof wasn't tangible—it wasn't as significant as the word "interesting."
In the blink of an eye, the night had passed.
The phone under his pillow gently vibrated. Li Yuntang glanced at the girl breathing softly next to him and raised his hand to dismiss a call from Yan Jiu.
This slight movement did not disturb Yan Xiaye's peaceful sleep. A few hours earlier, she had habitually rolled back to the middle of the large bed, clinging to the warmth nearby like a little animal afraid of the cold.