The next day, the rain had stopped.
The sky was a murky grey, and the autumn wind carried a piercing chill.
Except for Li Shaohui, who had overslept, everyone else had gathered in the dining room for breakfast.
The Li family patriarch sat at the head of the table, reading the newspaper while he ate. The rest of the family bowed their heads and ate without much conversation.
It wasn't until the patriarch had finished his meal and left the table that the others dared to get up.
Upon entering the living room and seeing the figure seated on the sofa, everyone was surprised.
"Mohan, how come you're here so early? Have you had breakfast? Shall I have the kitchen prepare something more for you?" the patriarch asked.
Li Mochan's brows and eyes were downcast, the corners of his eyes slightly lifted, icy and frosted.
"No need, I've already eaten."
"Uncle Five."
"Uncle Five."
