Cheng Lie lowered his eyes, letting Zhao Haishuang reprimand him without making a sound.
The icy hostility from earlier seemed to vanish completely.
A heavy silence filled the room.
Zhao Haishuang was filled with restless irritation, yet she still didn't lose her temper. In truth, she rarely did.
She was such a gentle and beautiful woman—how could she carelessly get angry?
She tossed the book onto the ground casually, the corners of her mouth curving into a sly smile, radiant as a sorceress: "Xiao Lie, listen to Mama. Don't read too many books. Do you even understand them? You'd be better off just having fun."
The study door closed once again, leaving only Cheng Lie alone inside.
The sky grew darker, and the final rays of the setting sun receded, swallowed by the encroaching night.
The boy was also consumed by the darkness—cold and utterly alone.
He remained in the same seated posture, unmoving for a long time, like a statue.
...