When Li Yuan saw that Zhong Tingyue didn't resist this intimate contact or shy away from his mischievous hands, a sense of relief washed over him.
This was a good sign.
Li Yuan shifted his body slightly to the side and, with both hands, moved from Zhong Tingyue's head to her forehead, gently massaging her temples.
Zhong Tingyue's voice trembled. "Senior?"
Li Yuan replied softly, his tone filled with doting affection, "Little Moon, let me just massage you for a while, okay?"
Zhong Tingyue hesitated for a moment but then softly hummed in agreement, nodding slightly.
A faint smile curved Li Yuan's lips. He leaned closer to Zhong Tingyue's head, inhaling the fresh scent of her hair—that same familiar fragrance.
It smelled wonderful, utterly refreshing.
With gentle, clockwise motions, his hands kneaded the temples on either side of her forehead to ease her fatigue.
