"Honey?"
Li Peifeng softly called, and Zhao Qingge murmured a response, sounding like a whisper from a dream.
Li Peifeng felt a flutter in his heart and gently said, "I miss you. Can you show me your face? Just the face will do."
"..."
A few seconds passed, and the phone was picked up. The dark screen revealed Zhao Qingge's face; she was leaning against the headboard, her hair still messy, but her face, originally as pale as freshly peeled lotus, now bore a flush as vibrant as evening glow. The graceful and elegant aura had subtly shifted, and her eyes, despite trying to appear calm, couldn't conceal their gentle bewilderment.
"You..."
Zhao Qingge's lips parted slightly as if to say something, then closed again, enticing imagination. Eventually, she playfully reproached, "Why haven't you changed clothes?"
Li Peifeng chuckled, "I'm trying to minimize the distance between us."
"Nonsense!"
Li Peifeng ignored her, his tone firm, "Don't move your hands, lift your head."
"Why?"
