Qin Yuanzhou carried a woman out of a blazing fire, the lingering fragrance and softness in his arms haunting him ever since. From that moment, he was bewitched—day and night yearning for that tender figure to lean over him, tug lightly at his blanket, breathe softly against his ear, and call him “good boy.”
The woman treated his wounds—her hands brushing against his arm, his back, even the curve of his neck. She fed him medicine, but along with it, she also unknowingly gave him her heart…


