Mo Nanjue's frown deepened the more he listened, and after Chen An had finished speaking, he turned his head to look at the woman lying on the bed.
Chen An saw his fixed gaze, and nudged him, "Nanjue?"
He and Mo Nanjue had grown up together in New York and were friends through thick and thin, but he had never seen him look at a woman so absently.
This time, he feared that it wouldn't be so easy for Mo Nanjue to extricate himself.
Thinking of what Tong Ran had said that afternoon... Chen An instantly felt that it was not just a matter of being unable to extricate himself, but that it might be much worse than that.
Jolted by the push, Mo Nanjue snapped back to reality, waving his hand in irritation, "Okay, I got it. It's late, just stay here tonight."
Chen An laughed, "Aren't you the one who tells me to scram every day?"