Yan Rouxi paced the room, walking from one end to the other, her arms crossed and brows furrowed in deep thought. Her slippers made soft taps against the wooden floor. She didn't say a word, just walked and thought, walked and thought.
Xia Yuqing and Rong Xi stood quietly, their eyes following her like a tennis match—left, right, left, right. Neither of them wanted to interrupt her thinking process. In fact, they were silently cheering her on.
"She's going to figure it out," Rong Xi whispered under her breath.
"She better," Xia Yuqing whispered back.
Suddenly, Yan Rouxi stopped walking. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto the door. Then she looked at the photo of her father hanging on the wall. She looked back at the door, then at the picture, and then at the door again.
"Did you figure out something?" Rong Xi asked nervously.
