She could not believe what she had just heard.
The weather outside and her understanding of the situation made it seem impossible.
Yet, the reality seemed to be laid out right before her eyes.
Yu Yanshen—
Was still outside her door.
Yao Qing's hand landed on the ice-cold doorknob, with a click, the fingerprint lock disengaged.
Outside was pitch-black, a night so dark that one could not see their own hand in front of them.
As soon as she opened it, a gust of intense cold wind met her, causing Yao Qing to shiver instinctively.
And when she saw the man standing outside her door, the expression in the depths of her eyes seemed instantly frozen.
"...Why haven't you left yet?"
Her voice, still groggy from sleep, carried a hint of haziness and hoarseness.
Yu Yanshen was leaning against the wall beside her door, his usual sharp suit now disheveled and forlorn, his tie tugged askew.
He was smoking, and just as Yao Qing opened the door, he had exhaled a puff of smoke.
