Zhao Meimei sneaked out of the house with the keys like a thief. As the door closed, the pitch-black visual impact in the hallway made her heart race with excitement.
She dared not rush downstairs as she usually did, even though she was familiar enough with these few steps to walk down steadily with her eyes closed.
Zhao Meimei lightly descended the stairs, and when she reached the third-floor landing, she couldn't hold back any longer. She lifted her foot to dash down, and just as she reached the hallway entrance, a large hand grabbed her arm, pulling her into a broad, solid embrace before she could react.
The scream that was about to escape Zhao Meimei's mouth was swallowed back abruptly. She hugged the person back, a familiar scent enveloped her— a mix of sweat, tobacco, and alcohol.
"Brother," Zhao Meimei called out with a trembling voice.
Shi Yang looked down at her, in the pitch-dark hallway, his eyes bright and spirited, seemingly shimmering.
