“Pa-da!”.
Due to Gong Sheng’s accidental touch, a small item on the bedside table fell to the ground.
The furnishings in Gong Sheng’s room were very simple. Apart from a table lamp and a glass of water, there was nothing else on the bedside table.
He picked it up and saw that it was a simple paper box the size of a palm.
He frowned and thought that the maid was not serious about cleaning and was about to throw it into the trash can.
Out of the blue, he pulled his arm back halfway and placed the simple paper box in front of his eyes to examine it carefully.
Why did this clumsy handmade box look so much like a certain little woman’s original style?
Gong Sheng slowly opened the box.
The moment the box was opened, his breathing stopped slightly.
It was... a feather!
It was blue and white, very similar to the bathrobe and nightgown that Yunqiao often wore. It was clean and soft, and a light touch was like brushing the palm of a young girl’s hand.
