Both of them had heavy hearts, but for each other's sake, neither spoke up.
In the main living room on the first floor, Chen An was sitting on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. When he saw Mo Nanjue, he tossed it aside and stood up, "Has she woken up?"
Mo Nanjue nodded slightly, glancing towards the dining room where Steward Zhou was still cooking porridge.
The man remained silent, walked to the edge of the sofa, and sat down heavily. Chen An followed and sat beside him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder, "Jue..."
Mo Nanjue didn't speak, his tall body leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his handsome face shrouded in gloom, voice deep, "Is it done?"
Chen An wanted to convince him, after all, it was just a woman, but he found that such matters were truly beyond persuasion. He sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a redwood box to hand to him, "It's ready."
Mo Nanjue took it and opened it; inside was a pair of brilliant pearl earrings.
