Chu Yao tugged at his sleeve.
Mo Tingshen did not move.
"Brother, goodnight."
The man unconsciously furrowed his brow, sighed silently, but still bent down to pull the blanket up to the appropriate height, softly saying, "Sleep."
Chu Yao let go of her hand, and he walked out, turning his rolled-up sleeves back down. Using his left hand seemed somewhat strenuous, as if he could be heard grunting softly.
She slightly twitched the corners of her lips, smiled, then buried her face in the blanket, the smile disappearing as she stared at the dimly lit living room for a while before closing her eyes to sleep.
Mo Tingshen went to the balcony outside the living room, closed the glass sliding door, flicked out a cigarette, and had just lit it when Bo Yanching's call came through.
"I heard from Yaen Chi that you're staying home to recover?"
"Hmm." Mo Tingshen exhaled a ring of smoke.
