The next morning, her biological clock woke Cheng Lele up.

The first thing that came into view was the oddly-shaped light fixture on the ceiling. Cheng Lele found it unfamiliar. She closed her eyes lightly, then slowly opened them again, remembering where she was sleeping.

She leisurely sat up and immediately spotted Chen An sitting at the writing desk, reading a book again—it seemed to still be the same copy of “The Willpower Instinct” he’d been flipping through before bed.

If Chen An hadn’t lain beside her last night to chat for a while, she would have mistakenly thought he hadn’t slept all night and had been sitting there without moving.

She lazily said “good morning,” her voice carrying a hint of hoarseness.

Chen An turned around, walked over, and touched her lips: “Good morning.”

Cheng Lele instinctively dodged slightly, touching her disheveled hair: “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Chen An laughed: “It’s fine, I don’t mind. In the middle of the night, someone drooled in their sleep, and it all dripped onto my chest.”

When they were young, it was always Chen An who woke Cheng Lele up for school. Regarding sleeping habits, Cheng Lele never refuted Chen An’s slander, saying carelessly: “Things that happen while asleep—you shouldn’t hold me responsible for those.”

As she spoke, her eyes glazed over, and she lay straight back down: “I’m still so sleepy. Little Brother, did you sleep well?”

Chen An said insincerely: “Very well.”

Last night he hadn’t fallen asleep at all.

Actually, after getting together with Cheng Lele, he no longer suffered from insomnia or headaches, hadn’t seen his psychologist again, hadn’t had any strange thoughts about seeking divine help or worshipping Buddha, and lived very healthily.

However, last night he’d been completely without drowsiness.

Perhaps it was because the blackout curtains hadn’t been closed tightly, letting in a sliver of moonlight. Or perhaps it was because after falling asleep, Cheng Lele had terrible sleeping posture—not only burrowing into his arms, but also hooking one leg over his body. Against his neck was her burning breath, pressing close was the person he most wanted to be intimate with, and he’d almost instinctively recalled that passionate dream he’d had at the Shenya Hotel.

Following that, Chen An had very deeply contemplated some questions: such as where Tongchuan Technology’s next growth point would be, such as whether MGM’s data security issues were being challenged by other companies, such as how many characters the Diamond Sutra contained in total, and such as when he could marry Cheng Lele.

By dawn, all these questions had answers, especially the last one which was extraordinarily clear.