Without a word, Yang Xiao took off his coat, walked to the bed, and collapsed onto it.
As soon as his head touched the pillow, a slight drunkenness rose to the surface, and Yang Xiao closed his eyes, quickly drifting into slumber.
But what Yang Xiao didn't know was that Jiang Qingluan, leaning on the sofa, was silently watching him from behind, her eyes complex and her rims reddening, as if filled with guilt and struggle. A moment later, her lips moved slightly, but no sound emerged.
If Yu Shu, who was skilled in lip-reading, had been there, they would have understood that the words Jiang Qingluan couldn't bring herself to say were "I'm sorry..."
One hour ago, in Rongjin Building.
Su Xiaomin was tightly huddled with Chen Moting, the two of them curled up in the innermost corner of the office, surrounded by two walls. The feeling of having something to lean on did little to alleviate their fear and anxiety.
