Xu Xiangyang placed the pen between his lips and the bridge of his nose, staring blankly at the grass swaying in the breeze in the potted plant by the window. At that moment, Lin Xingjie, who had originally been bent over her work, leaned over and asked out of curiosity.
"What are you thinking about?"
Up close to those large eyes with fluttering eyelashes, Xu Xiangyang instinctively wanted to lean away, but he quickly realized that his identity had changed from the past, so he immediately stopped the impulse and smiled as he answered,
"I was just thinking..."
He paused mid-sentence, looking at the exam papers on the table.
"You should really hit the books. We haven't been able to focus on studying for a while and I feel like we've become a bit too lax."
The situation at the Haunted House on Ann Street No. 41 had come to a close. These past few days, no one had contacted them; it was as if nothing had happened.
