Jun Moyan stands under the shower, eyes closed, head slightly tilted back, hot water pouring down from above, yet he still feels an icy chill all over.
His chest feels as though blocked by a massive rock, suffocatingly oppressive.
Unable to endure this mont of loneliness, Jun Moyan instinctively raises his hand to turn off the shower, without even bothering to dry himself, hastily rubs his hair, dresses quickly, and opens the bathroom door.
When he sees Wen Xiao’ai quietly waiting for him on the bed, his restless heart finds salvation.
Wen Xiao’ai looks at Jun Moyan, who is sowhat flustered at the bathroom door, and asks, puzzled, "What’s wrong?"
Jun Moyan doesn’t reply, but calms himself and walks toward the bed.
As soon as he gets on the bed, he holds Wen Xiao’ai and lies down, unable to control himself from holding her tighter.
"Your hair’s still wet, let dry it for you," says Wen Xiao’ai, attempting to free herself from his embrace.
"No need."
"No way, you’re the one who said you shouldn’t sleep with wet hair. What if you catch a cold."
Unable to resist Wen Xiao’ai’s concern, Jun Moyan releases her and sits up as well.
Wen Xiao’ai rises to grab a dry towel, first helping Jun Moyan dry his hair, and then uses a hair dryer.
Jun Moyan sits at the edge of the bed, silent, just staring at Wen Xiao’ai’s face.
"Feng Liyan said he was beaten and fell into the Human Realm, right in front of Bai Yi, who then took him in. Doesn’t that remind you of us?" Wen Xiao’ai laughs as she blow dries his hair.
"..." Jun Moyan doesn’t reply, just stares at her srized.
Noticing Jun Moyan’s lack of response, Wen Xiao’ai glances down at him, only to find his gaze fixated on her.
"What’s wrong with you?"
Suddenly, Jun Moyan reaches out to hug her waist, burying his face in her chest, not saying a word.
Wen Xiao’ai is montarily stunned, saying nothing, but her gaze slowly dims. She steadies herself and continues with her task.
She knows what’s on Jun Moyan’s mind...
But she doesn’t dwell on his worries, believing that as long as they persevere, nothing can stand in their way.
That night, both held each other tightly, so tight that falling asleep was difficult, yet neither wanted to let go...
Bar after bar, Qing Yi is struggling after days of intense work.
Brimming with hope again, he bursts into the chaotic bar, searching through the scattered silhouettes for that familiar figure, only to leave exhausted and disappointed.
This scene has played out many tis in just a few hours.
Erging from the bar, Qing Yi, indifferent to the curious glances, crouches against the wall, heedless of appearances.
It’s already one in the morning.
From returning to Wu Garden at four in the afternoon till now, he’s been searching for nine hours.
Starting from the apartnt, till now, he’s lost count of how many bars he’s visited, only knowing he’s gone through every bar in this area possible.
So more than once.
He’s now four hours’ drive away from Wu Garden, unwittingly searching this far.
Qing Yi covers his face with both hands, roughly rubbing his face twice in an attempt to muster his spirits again.
He retrieves his phone, almost out of battery from nurous calls, first checking ssages, finding none from the drunk, and then dials the drunk’s number again...
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