"Tingting!" His sudden shout was amplified by the silence of the night.
Song Qingchun halted in her steps, and soon after that, she heard Su Zhinian shout again.
"Tingting! Tingting—"
The volume and emotions of his shouts were more intense than in the one preceding it. In the end, it sounded like he was yelling at the top of his lungs, causing the heart of the listener to wrench greatly in pain and sorrow.
Song Qingchun went blank for a second before running toward Su Zhinian's bedroom without a second thought.
As she pushed the door open, Song Qingchun flipped the light on and rushed to his bedside. Su Zhinian was lying in bed with his eyes screwed shut, his brows in a deep lock and his mouth still mumbling "Tingting" continuously. From his forehead to his neck was covered in sweat, and his fists gripped the covers incredibly forcefully.
