"I miss you, Zhou Xiaochuan."

"Me too."

He is in his arms, his smooth hair is under his palms, Zhou Xiaochuan's breath is in his nose, and his sincere whispers are in his ears. There is no better moment in the world than this.

"Yan Huan, you have a faint milky smell."

"Any more? This is because Yi'er followed me and got involved."

"Does it smell bad? Or should I wash it again?"

"It smells pretty good."

"Really?"

"Um."

" ... ...