Little Yunduo's pale cheeks flushed with a shy red hue, and she fidgeted uncomfortably with the corner of the quilt, muttering under her breath, "Such a purpose-driven statement, it definitely wasn't said by any philosopher."
Embarrassed, Yan Xiaye pursed her lips into a smile, thankful that she had grown accustomed to being intellectually dwarfed by Little Yunduo.
She reached out to tuck the little one in properly, wrapped her arms around the Yunduo-branded pillow fortuitously delivered to her door, and yawned, convinced that she would surely sleep peacefully now, never to have nightmares again.
"Yanyan." Acting obediently as the pillow, Little Yunduo breathed in Xiaye's sweet scent and gradually started to feel his eyelids grow heavy.
He still remembered the important mission he carried on his shoulders to propose on behalf of his daddy, but he knew he had to consider a step-by-step approach, slowly revealing his intentions, and absolutely not to startle Yanyan.
