It was dawn and the fog was heavy.
Ever since Nanny Li left that day, Bai Muchuan stayed alone in the house.
Before Xiang Wan came out to look for him, she had thought that as he had drank a lot of wine, he must have been awakened by her call. She had not expected that when he opened the door, he would be holding a cigarette.
It was a lighted cigarette, flickering indolently in the morning fog like starlight.
"You're here?" he asked, his tone sounded slightly moody.
That sluggish, lethargic, and discouraged look of his seemed like he was abandoned and forgotten by the whole world—as if he had crawled out of some nook from a cemetery. His current state was that of a prince in distress; proud, obstinate, imposing… but depressed.
Xiang Wan's heart felt a tear.
This is not Bai Muchuan, she thought.
This is not the Bai Muchuan I know.
