Whenever he got into trouble in the past, family members would always pull out all the stops to help him resolve it, so after the incident, the first thing he did was to run home, subconsciously seeking shelter.
When Dong Yunxiu hurried down the stairs, she collided directly with Jiang Jinsang's cold, stern eyes.
By this time, Beijing had welcomed early summer, yet it could hardly be called warm. He always carried a thin blanket when going out, but today he only wore black trousers and a white shirt, which made his figure appear even more gaunt and thin.
His clothes were drenched and wrinkled, losing the usual restraint and gentleness, particularly those eyes, which were so harsh they made one's heart tremble.
"Jiang Jinsang, what are you doing?"
The door was wide open, and the wind rushed in recklessly, by this time approaching noon with the bright sun overhead, yet the wind seemed to carry a biting chill, and his hair was whipped wildly by it.
