Under the scrutinizing gazes of the Shen siblings, Chen Yiran strolled in composedly, although he did sense something was amiss.
His dark deep-set eyes glanced briefly at Tianxin, who had her head purchased low enough to be almost buried within the blanket. He then looked back at the Shen siblings, their eyes filled with mischief, and asked in a deep voice, "Tianxin, what's wrong?"
"Nothing..." Tianxin's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum. She lifted her dewy eyes to glance at Chen Yiran, inwardly grumbling, why were there no signs of swelling on this fellow's lips...
That morning when she woke up, Chen Yiran had already left, leaving only a note on the bedside table, stating that he had gone to work.
Tianxin was initially worried if Chen Yiran, having not slept all night, would be tired at work. But, seeing him at this moment — energetic, his figure accentuated by his fitted suit — he looked as though nothing had happened at all.
