"Chen Lin," he tried again, this time with a little shake.
She finally stirred, her brows furrowing as if he were the one inconveniencing her. Then, in the softest, most pitiful voice, she mumbled, "Brother Xuan…?"
Wu Yuxuan stilled.
For a split second, his annoyance wavered.
She had never called him that before.
Not once.
And now, of all times—covered in her vomit—was this really the moment she decided to say it?
He let out a dry, almost disbelieving laugh.
"Too late," he muttered, shaking his head. "You lost your chance."
But Chen Lin wasn't listening.
She nuzzled closer, mumbling something incoherent, completely unaware of the disaster she had caused.
Wu Yuxuan sighed heavily.
There was no helping it.
Carefully, he shifted her off him and onto the bed, making sure she was comfortable before standing up and removing his ruined white long sleeve. The urge to just throw it out the window was strong, but he settled for tossing it into the laundry bin instead.
