The weather had warmed up recently.
The inside of the house sometimes felt stuffy and hot.
At night, he had grown accustomed to opening a window.
There was a breeze outside, but it was so slight that it only caused the curtains to flutter gently, playing with the pale moonlight like water, casting it in his room in constant flux.
With the help of the moonlight, the small slit his eyes managed to open scanned the room but discerned nothing.
Maybe—it was an illusion?
Or perhaps it really was some kind of monster, but the creature had already left?
Zhang Jinfan considered this, unaware that his hair was being pulled, his eyes widening slightly.
With his view now wider, he finally saw something amiss.
Above his forehead, strands of black hair dangled down.
The figure seemed to be probing to see if he was awake, the black hair inching forward slowly.
It was like a child.
