In the early morning, as the eastern horizon was dyed red by the dawn, He Fenghua got out of bed, drew back the curtains, and the originally dark bedroom became bright.
The morning glow illuminated He Fenghua's handsome face, allowing one to clearly see that his complexion was somewhat yellowish, with two distinct dark circles under his eyes, and even bloodshot veins within them.
The cause of all this was: he had not slept at all last night.
It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, but that he couldn't.
Last night, after returning from Qiao Bazhi's villa, the unease in his heart lingered like a curse, never dissipating.
And as time passed, the anxiety in his heart became even more intense—Qiao Bazhi had yet to call him.
Rubbing his face, He Fenghua quickly walked to the bedside table, picked up his phone, and directly dialed Qiao Bazhi's number.
"Young Master He."