Early morning, an eight-fifteen flight.
At four-thirty, Zhou Huaiyi was woken up by Yang Li's fancy knocking on the door.
Exhausted, exhausted, exhausted.
These were the two words looping endlessly in Zhou Huaiyi's mind while washing her face and brushing her teeth. She dressed mechanically and packed her luggage just as Xiang Qichen came to knock on the door.
Zhou Huaiyi opened the door and yawned: "Morning..." The tone of her speech was instantly raised by two pitches due to the yawn, exceedingly exuberant.
Xiang Qichen: "..."
Only then did Zhou Huaiyi realize she might have been too free-spirited, so she immediately closed her mouth and gave a crooked smile.
Xiang Qichen glanced at her, then scanned the room: "Anything else left?"
Zhou Huaiyi shook her head: "Nothing."
Xiang Qichen grabbed a suitcase in each hand and headed out the door: "Let's go, Yang Li and the others are already downstairs."
Zhou Huaiyi looked around: "Where's your suitcase?"
