The Perfect Heir

Not even five minutes later after stepping out of the house, they were already on their way back. The sun had long set and the moon was a crescent hanging up in the deep blue sky. Neither of them was talking. Had Wuming just came back this afternoon? It felt like forever ago. Wuming thought that his brother had already fallen asleep because of the quiet but when he took a peek, he saw his lips moving—like he was reciting something, or praying.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Qing Chen answered, his voice about two tones deeper with exhaustion. "It had been a long day."

"Right," he said in return. Even Wuming's mind and body were also at their limit. There was nothing he would not give if he could just drop on a mattress and sleep for the next two days. "Hey, Chen."

"Yeah?"

"Whatever coffee or tea you're on, I want it too."