Before he could fully register the motion, a tiny, missile-shaped bundle of love, loss, and three days of separation anxiety slammed into his torso.
It was a full-body impact, a spectacular, gravity-defying collision. Yuanfeng grunted softly, the air whooshing out of his lungs.
His arms automatically shot out, catching her just as her small legs wrapped around his waist like a pair of well-aimed vices.
Huaijin buried her face into the soft fabric of his shirt, which probably smelled faintly of dusty old books and the mild scent of antiseptic from his lab, and clung to him with the ferocious, desperate tenacity of a shipwreck survivor finding a life raft.
She didn't just hug him; she wore him.
Her arms locked around his neck with a crushing grip that, to anyone else, might have been painful.
"I missed you, I missed you, I missed you so much, Daddy!" The words were muffled against his shoulder, a rapid-fire litany of devotion.
The three days had felt like three years.
