He Jingyan paused for a moment again, then smiled with his eyes narrowed, a soft chuckle escaping from his throat.
He tilted his head, as if to sigh, "Okay, I can finally use the front door."
"Wait for me a moment."
After saying that, he turned and left decisively.
Song Xizhi stood there, looking at the empty windowsill, and slowly closed the window.
She stood silently by the window for a moment, and after regaining her senses, she ran to the front door to open it.
As soon as she opened the door, she saw the tall figure of a man leaning against the doorframe, quietly waiting for her.
He seemed to have been waiting for a while, but he was always so patient.
The night is always ambiguous, and when Song Xizhi looked up, she met his gaze once again.
He was quiet and silent all day, but his eyes always conveyed emotions.
It was an emotion that was hard to describe.
She watched as He Jingyan suddenly raised his head, as if he wanted to take her hand.
Song Xizhi took a step back, but he was faster than expected. He reached out and took the hairpin that she was holding tightly in her hand.
"The night is long, thank you for taking me in, madam."
His hoarse voice reached my ears, carrying a hint of ambiguous emotion in the darkness.
Before Song Xizhi could even react, he saw him nimbly squeeze into the room.
His swift movements were a stark contrast to the pained expression on his face when he clutched his lower back earlier; he was practically a different person altogether.
Song Xizhi stood there, watching the man's back, and couldn't help but wonder if his earlier weakness and injury were genuine.
Before she could say anything, the man had already naturally climbed onto the soft couch, his slender fingers deftly turning as he began to undress.
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