Exhausted to the extreme, even dreaming felt like too much effort.
When Liang Weining woke up, through the translucent curtain, she saw the tall figure standing on the balcony, taking a call.
Having lived together for some time, she had basically mastered Mr. Chen's daily routine.
Especially in the morning, no matter how arduous the previous night's work, his biological clock, unyielding, struck six.
Like a machine that, no matter how overworked, seemed to have an inexhaustible source of energy.
Sometimes she really wanted to know, beneath that robust physique, if there was a weakness, what exactly it would take to shake him ever so slightly.
As for his heart.
Whether it was as impervious as his body.
Actually, for smart people, the simpler the emotions, the better. Liang Weining never delved deep into the other person nor did she spend much energy pondering over herself.
Whose feelings for whom were truer, deeper, delving into that was meaningless.
