Xing Han sighed.
He wondered how his Cookie was doing.
He hoped Nitocris was fine and not freaking out.
Well, if it was him, he would freak out.
Xing Han sat on his bed, staring at the four walls. It was dark, and he didn't bother to switch on the lights.
Why should he?
There was nothing to see.
The windows were blackened out and locked securely. So was the door. In front of it, there was one bodyguard who stood guard.
Xing Han hardly ate, his appetite not quite there so he had lost a bit of weight in these past three days. Or was it four?
He had lost count already.
His face was not as swollen as before, though it still hurt from the slaps he had gotten.
His days were filled with people asking him all sorts of intrusive questions. Xing Han was cooperative, mainly to show his family that there was nothing wrong with him.
He felt that if he resisted, they would be more rigid in their stance.
