The wound reopening was fake, but the pain was real.
Mu Jingnan leaned against the headboard, frowning in pain, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead.
He picked up the documents, trying to divert his attention.
However, he couldn't focus no matter what.
Putting down the documents, he glanced at the time; it was only eleven o'clock.
The long night stretched on... with pain stirring.
Supporting himself up, he lifted the quilt and got out of bed, quietly coming to the door of Situ Yunshu's guest room.
Hesitating, he eventually extended his sinful hand.
Opening the door, just as he was about to turn on the light, he saw a shadow standing in front of him.
Those eyes, cold and clear, were comparable to the merciless and serene moonlight outside the window.
They looked at him icily, without a trace of emotion.
"Still awake?"
Mu Jingnan curved his lips into a smile, casually turning on the light.
