Mu Mian gently shook her head, "I'm a bit thirsty, I'd like to drink some water."
Gong Heng immediately put down the documents, "I'll get you some water."
Then Gong Heng went down to the living room.
Mu Mian walked over to his desk, where a stack of documents lay, all with traces of having been flipped through, proof that he had been looking at them for a long time.
Had he not slept at all?
Shortly after, Gong Heng came back with a glass of milk.
"Drinking milk helps with sleep."
Mu Mian took the milk, sipped it lightly, and sat on the sofa, asking softly, "Haven't you slept?"
"Mmm, there's some work to take care of, and once it's done, I'll go to rest."
Actually, he had been sleeping very little for these three years. Was it two hours a day, or three? Sometimes he would even go an entire day without sleep, and it had become a habit now. To sleep was to have nightmares, to wake was to face reality.
It was torturous.
