The night gets deeper and deeper, as if it had been dyed with ink, and the wind rubbing the leaves makes a deep and shallow rustling sound, which is particularly clear in the silent night.

Yi Qingchen sat under the tree, and Chu Qiao lay beside him, his head resting on his knee and his coat underneath.

"Close your eyes and sleep well."

He patted her on the stomach and bent over her lip and kissed her.

"I can't sleep."

Chu Qiao turned over and found the most comfortable position in his knee socket.

One of their mobile phones was left unattended in the campsite, and the other did not...