The curtains block the light very well.
So well that Qu Peining couldn't differentiate what time it was.
She was still curled up in Zhou Wang's embrace, like an ostrich, choosing to bury her head in the darkness.
Her chin rested on Zhou Wang's chest, separated by the thin fabric of his pajamas, allowing her to smell the scent emanating from him.
A scent akin to incense burning in a temple, while not described well, it was unexpectedly pleasant, intermingled with a hint of tobacco, inexplicably addictive.
Qu Peining had never been this close to another man before, so she was somewhat puzzled, wondering if every man smelled like this, or if it was only Zhou Wang?
Moments later, Qu Peining reached a conclusion.
It must be that only Zhou Wang smelled this way.
