Moreover, he didn't know what tone to use when asking: casual, interrogative?
Thinking it over, he pursed his lips, but ultimately swallowed back the question he intended to ask, pressing his hands down on the couch as he stood up.
Then he looked down at Ji Anning, his expression still one of indifference.
"The old man hasn't been in a good mood lately, so I'll allow you to stay here for a few days," he said.
Even though it sounded like charity, it astonished Ji Anning. His apartment was her private sanctuary, sacred ground to her, and she was surprised to be allowed entry.
It's like his room at home; she couldn't remember how many years it had been since she last went in there, only once or twice when she was much younger.
His bedroom door was always closed when she saw it. Even when he was abroad for three years it was the same, although the maid would sometimes open it for ventilation, it was always when she was at school, not at home.
