After the silence, Yao Qing stood up.
Her hair, freshly washed, tumbled to her waist like silk satin.
"I'm going to sleep."
Yu Yanshen frowned.
He didn't stop Yao Qing, simply watched her go to the guest room.
Then he closed the door.
With a somewhat headache, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Often he avoided arguing with her because arguing with a woman seemed inevitably to enter a stage of cold war. He didn't understand women's thoughts and logic, but he did know that during this cold war she would think a lot, even ponder whether this relationship had any significance to exist.
He bent down to sit on the couch, reached for the cigarettes on the table, and lit one.
His gaze drifted outside the window.
The vast expanse of the river was still shimmering, most of the time serene and harmless, and aesthetically pleasing. But for those who fell in by accident, none ever returned.
-
Li Meng was awakened at one in the morning by a loud noise.