In the study, Sikong Wuyou looked at the food in front of him, yet had no appetite whatsoever.
He got up, walked to a small couch on the side, and curled his body up tightly.
Just like... before.
As if this was the only way he could find a trace of security.
Similarly, An Ning hadn't slept either, but unlike Sikong Wuyou, she ate a lot.
Ate until she felt... like vomiting.
The night remained cold and silent.
Two rooms, two different states, yet inexplicably with something in common.
In the end, her body was too weak; groggy, she finally fell asleep.
But even in her sleep, her brows remained tightly knit, seemingly not at peace.
Little did she know, as she slept, the room's door quietly opened in the middle of the night.
Soon after, a tall figure walked in from outside, and the door was gently closed again.
Basking in the dim moonlight, Sikong Wuyou walked to the bedside.
Seeing An Ning's furrowed brow, he gently raised his hand to smooth it out.
