The conversation between father and son continues, with soft lighting and a faint scent of tea.
At some point, the gentle evening breeze begins to pick up.
The sheer curtains by the window are lifted, and the open window starts to creak under the strong wind.
"It's getting windy," Huo Tianxing says. "Looks like there'll be heavy rain tonight."
As he speaks, he gets up to close the window.
"You can stay in this room tonight. I don't know when Father and Tianqi will leave, but I hope you can stay a few more days."
"Hmm, I was thinking of staying," Huo Siyu says quietly.
He gazes at Huo Tianxing's back, his gentle voice and graceful movements like the world's most loving father, never uttering a harsh word to his child.
Compared to the domineering Huo Zongtao, Huo Tianxing, seemingly gentle, is truly cunning.
