The lights in the bedroom were off.
The clear, cold moonlight streamed through the glass window, casting a silvery white shadow on the floor that was barely discernible.
Fang Cheng sat quietly at the desk, his gaze fixed on the two distinctly different masks.
One was ghastly and ferocious, the other amusingly ridiculous.
They reflected a cold, eerie light under the moonlight, with mouths twisted into exaggerated arcs.
As if silently narrating his hidden, unknown side as he walked the earth.
Outside the window, the clamor of Old Factory Street had already dissipated.
The sporadic barking of dogs and the engine sounds of late-returning vehicles echoed far in the silent night.
And further away, the skyscrapers in the East Capital Center continued to glow with unceasing neon lights.
Like a forest of steel, standing silently in the darkness, overlooking all the city's hidden sins.
