After he entered the study, he didn't come out again.
Qiao Mo sat on the sofa in the living room for a long time, and every time she thought of his cold gaze just now, she felt inexplicably uncomfortable.
She turned her head to look at the tightly closed study door, as if it isolated her from his world.
Qiao Mo gently lowered her eyes, her fingers unconsciously flipping through the magazine in her hand, feeling increasingly distracted.
About half an hour later, she recalled the bloodshot eyes he had.
She still put down the magazine and went downstairs to heat a cup of milk, and brought some breakfast upstairs.
Standing in front of the study door, she felt a bit nervous.
After hesitating for a moment, she still knocked on the door.
After a while, the door opened, he appeared in her sight wearing a white shirt, and his eyes fell on the tray in her hands with a slight daze.
A strong smell of smoke and alcohol came towards her, and Qiao Mo paused for a moment too.
