Duan Jingwen's eyes flickered, reaching to turn off the desk lamp.
The moment the room plunged into darkness, his slender fingers probed into the base of the lamp to prise out a tiny object.
At the door, he looked in her direction and said, "Good night."
Then, with hardly any noise, he closed the door.
Back in his own room, Duan Jingwen pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"How did it go?"
As soon as the call connected, an eager female voice came from the other end.
"Success," said Duan Jingwen, unfastening two buttons from his collar with one hand.
The woman's voice turned playful, "Remember to send me a copy."
"Understood. Have an early rest, good night."
"Good night!"
After hanging up, Duan Jingwen lay half-reclined on the sofa, twirling a button-like object between his fingers.
His gaze was deep, inscrutable to anyone's eyes.
Only after a long pause, he dialed another number and asked directly, "How is Lan Xiu doing?"
