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... acket. After lying on the bed, she took it off, revealing a slim-fitting beige turtleneck sweater beneath.
The sweater hugged her figure as she lay upside-down on the bed, her head resting at the footboard.
Jiang Miao sat at the foot of the bed, typing on his laptop. But every time Su Huaizhou shifted, the blanket covering her slipped a little, and his gaze was irresistibly drawn over, as though it had been ensnared in a trap it couldn’t escape.
Just treat it as gathering ...
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~ Postscript, many years later