It was Shang Hexing; he was still outside her door, not having left.
He seemed to know she would open the door again, his expression devoid of surprise, and his lips held a faint, almost nonexistent smile, "What do you want to ask?"
His words were like a pebble dropped into the calm lake of Wen Zhi's heart, rippling the surface.
"Did you figure out early on that I had something I wanted to ask you?" she asked.
"You're not good at hiding your concerns," Shang Hexing told her, "If you want to ask something, you can just ask me."
Wen Zhi pursed her lips and then shook her head: "I don't have anything to ask."
"Wen Zhi," Shang Hexing called out her name.
Wen Zhi shook her head, "I really don't have anything to ask, Mr. Shang."
The final "Mr. Shang" was a representation of creating distance.
Shang Hexing watched her quietly for a moment, and in the end, he didn't say anything else, only cautioning her, "Get some rest early."
Wen Zhi nodded.
