Lanting Square.
The wine bottles lay askew in Meiyue Pavilion, their crooked forms scattered across the floor, while smoke permeated the entire private room, mingling with the aroma of alcohol.
The smell wasn't exactly strange, but it was undeniably unpleasant.
A man slouched despondently against a reclining chair, wordlessly gazing at the crescent moon outside the window, occasionally lifting the cigarette wedged between his fingers to his thin lips.
The corners of his peach blossom-shaped eyes were tinged with a decadent red, paired with dark pupils that seemed to carry faint ripples.
It made one, inexplicably, want to bully him.
"Sir, it's almost eleven." Seated cautiously across from him for a long time, Chen Cai finally couldn't resist breaking the silence.
"Mm."
Shi Wei responded indifferently, without any intention of getting up.
