The window lattices creaked, parts worn after years of neglect, emitting "squeak, squeak" sounds in the silent room.
Jiang Ruan opened her eyes.
There's not much drowsiness in her eyes. She turned sideways to see that the man was gone. She stretched her hand out to touch the bedding, which was cold. He must've left a while ago.
Jiang Ruan sat up on the bed, the friction of the fabric making a sound.
The night always seemed exceptionally clear.
She glanced at the clock across the room; it was already 2:15 in the morning.
She furrowed her eyebrows slightly before getting out of the bed.
...
In the hallway.
Fu Chi stood by the window, the night breeze sobering him considerably.
There were no obvious fluctuations in his emotions, only his hand holding the cell phone to his ear, listening to the narration on the other end.
Bo Wen's voice was heavy: "His condition is not good right now, but he only asks to see you once. Looking at his state, he probably won't last long."
