Song Baiyan turned at the sound.
The glass door was half open, with the girl holding a pillow, wearing pajamas, her mid-length hair washed and blow-dried, draped over her shoulders. Behind her, the moonlight was pouring in, pure and clear.
Then, Tang Li put the pillow on the bed, picked up the remote control to turn on the air conditioner, closed the glass door, and kicked off her slippers as she climbed onto the bed.
A series of movements were as smooth as drifting clouds and flowing water.
She grabbed the blanket and covered herself, lying down in a modest pose: "Considering we haven't seen each other for a while, we desperately need emotional communication."
As she spoke, she seemed to remember something, and assured: "Just plain chatting."
"Aren't you afraid of the Wong Family discovering you running over here like this?"
"They didn't install cameras on the balcony."
Tang Li turned her head: "As long as you don't tell and I don't tell, no one will know."
