"You child, why don't you knock before entering?" Song Chengye frowned and scolded with displeasure.
Song Yan felt something was off, "I didn't know anyone was inside; I thought it was just the lights left on. What are you doing sitting here late at night without sleeping?"
"Can't sleep, just reading for a bit."
"Oh." Song Yan replied indifferently, showing no intention of leaving.
Song Chengye looked at her and asked, "Is there anything else?"
Song Yan crossed her arms and slowly walked over, asking, "What were you just hiding?"
"Nothing."
Song Chengye obviously didn't want her to know.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have acted so secretive and immediately hidden it as soon as he saw her come in.
Song Yan had now reached his desk.
His desk was very neat, with just an open book and a cup of almost cold boiled water on it — nothing else.
