He opened his eyes and typed the last line in the document: "The meaning of the seal is not to stop us from moving forward, but to remind us to think: Are we ready to face the world behind the door?" Then he saved the document, turned off the computer, stood up, and walked out of the study. When he entered the bedroom, Xiao Su had already lain down, with Erbao's crib next to her bed. He gently lay down without drawing the curtains. The rain was still falling, its traces meandering down the glass, refracting the street lamp outside into a blurred halo. He watched for a long time, then closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the rain, and slowly fell asleep.
Yang Ping sat in the study, holding no pen, and the experiment notebook was not open in front of him.
He was just sitting on the chair, looking out the window. The rain had stopped, but the sky had not cleared up; it was a uniform, featureless gray.
