Sunlight streamed in through the window, passing through the thin white curtains and falling onto the wooden floor. A soft white rug covered the floor, on which lay a pair of rolled-up pants and a pair of black boxers, half of which had been tossed under the bed.
On the boxers, there was a small yellow chrysanthemum.
A furry foot stuck out from the white blanket, its owner seemingly trapped between sleep and consciousness.
The camera panned upward to reveal a head emerging from the blanket, half of the face buried in the covers. His short hair was a bit messy, but it was still obvious who he was—Mu Nan.
Last night, he had been totally wrecked by a group of staff.
