The night was deepening, with flickering lights across the island.
The large bedroom, adorned in understated opulence, subtly revealed the master's discerning taste. Yet, scattered around were ornamental objects, all from the hands of renowned artists.
This was perhaps exactly what they meant by luxurious subtlety.
Before the floor-to-ceiling window, a man sat in a wheelchair, smoke curling around his slender fingers.
The smoke wafting upward, his handsome features were obscured, making it seemed almost illusory.
Shen Yan's brows furrowed, his gaze fixed on the night view outside, his thoughts drifting far away.
"knock, knock, knock!"
"Young Master Yan, it's me!"
The knock on the door echoed in a regular rhythm. Subsequently, the door was pushed open.
Under the light, A'er, dressed in black, carried the chill of the night air with him.
