The living room light was dim, but Chi Zaozao could clearly see the outline of the person there, resolute and cold, both familiar and oddly detached.
She didn't know why he was sitting there by himself, but it seemed unreasonable not to greet him.
Carrying her book bag, Chi Zaozao walked over, not daring to get too close, and asked timidly from a distance, "Brother Ye Que, you're still not resting, so late at night?"
Raising an eyebrow, Chi Zaozao guessed that given his stinginess with words, he probably wouldn't bother with her. After speaking, she quietly turned around...
"Do you even realize how late it is?"
Suddenly, a cold voice came from behind her.
Chi Zaozao's spine stiffened, and she was immediately filled with an ominous premonition.
With a brave face, she turned around, lowered her head, looking like a small child who had done something wrong and was begging for forgiveness.
