The living room was dark when Ye Xi closed the door; it felt as if all her strength had been drained in an instant.
She leaned against the door, her tears flowing uncontrollably, her chest so tight that she struggled to breathe, her emotions a flood of disaster.
…
At two in the morning, Shen Yijun received a WeChat message from Lu Lingxiao.
Shen Yijun wasn't asleep at that time; he was partying with friends at a nightclub.
When he heard the WeChat notification, he didn't pay it any mind.
But the consecutive pings were uncharacteristic of Lu Lingxiao.
Lu Lingxiao hated using text for communication in apps.
Why waste time typing about something when it could be said in just a few words?
Thus, whenever he wanted to contact Shen Yijun, he would almost always make a direct phone call, speak his mind, and then hang up.
This was the first time Shen Yijun had been bombarded with messages from him.
