Lin Nuan had arrived even earlier than the editor today. She made herself a cup of tea and leaned on the table in the recording room, propping herself up with one hand, buried in her messy train of thoughts.
Wen Moshen's frail face popped up, followed by Fu Huai'an's penetrating gaze through the mist.
"Why is it only you? Where's your editor Meng Meng?"
Bai Xiaonian came back from watching the commotion. She saw Lin Nuan standing alone in the recording room, staring blankly into the distance with her headset around her neck.
"There might be a traffic jam since it's Friday night…" Lin Nuan took a sip of the cup of tea in her hands, "Done with the commotion?"
