Su Yan rested her head on her arm, her gaze lowered.
Outside, a sea of neon lights cast a forlorn expression on her face, the sadness seemed to overflow.
Behind her, Gu Chaohan slowly opened his eyes, silently looking towards the window.
His gaze finally settled on her bare back, his eyes cold and calm, without a ripple.
Her heart had died long ago, leaving only a shell living on, without joy, anger, or sorrow.
In the dark, the man's gloomy gaze gradually froze into ice.
He reached for a pack of cigarettes on the bedside, pulled one out and lit it, then sat up leaning against the headboard, slowly smoking.
A flicker of red light undulated with his fingers in the dark room, fading in and out.
The scent of desire in the room hadn't yet dissipated, quickly overshadowed by the pungent smell of smoke.
Noticing something unusual, Su Yan turned around, and Gu Chaohan was already off the bed, by her side.
