As the evening breeze swept past their noses, carrying the sweet scent of roasted treats, An Yangning’s eyelashes fluttered gently.
She gazed at the brilliant strings of lights spinning on the carousel not far away, her fingers nervously twisting the lace hem of her dark bride dress. The anticipation in her eyes was so heavy and full it felt as though it might spill over like water-soaked cotton.
"Are you not going?" she asked softly. The trailing edge of her voice was kneaded into softness by the wind, like a feather brushing against Jiang Han’s heart.
Chapter 61