Jiang Yingyue nodded her head, feeling slightly pampered. This was a feeling she had not felt for many years, and a sweetness arose within her as she looked at Han Qingshan with grateful eyes.
Seeing his friend looking at him with such trusting and grateful eyes, he almost lost himself. Unsure of what he wanted to do, he just tightened his grip on the hand that was resting on his arm.
Finally, after a few moments, he realized what he was doing, and he retracted his hand, releasing Jiang Yingyue's hand from the iron grip it had been in earlier.
When she moved her hand, he could not help but feel that something left his heart; that the hand which had been cool to the touch had woken some sort of emotions in him. It was a feeling that he could not understand.
Jiang Yingyue was embarrassed when she realized that she had actually placed her hand on his arm, and her heartbeat rose rapidly. Her face was red, and she avoided eye contact.
