Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains into the room, half-illuminating the face of Xue Jing, who sat on the sofa.
He sat with his arms crossed, his face reflecting deep thought, pondering a matter.
After a good while, a series of gentle knocking sounds came from the door.
The sound was very soft. Xue Jing snapped out of his reverie, didn't get up, but flicked his finger.
The shadow at the door was drawn out into a black stream, which condensed into a tangible shadow hand and turned the doorknob.
Seeing the door open, Xue Wan, who was holding Miao Miao, looked somewhat apprehensive; she was about to speak but didn't see her brother.
She walked in, puzzled, passed through the hallway in the room, and only after reaching the living room did she see Xue Jing sitting on the sofa, half his body enshrouded in shadow.
He didn't speak, just sat there, covered in shadows with only half his face visible, looking calmly at Xue Wan.
