When poor Lan Qíshēng thought he would finally have some quiet hours alone with his beloved, after what felt like an eternity of chaos, blood, and responsibility pressing on his shoulders, fate once again played its cruel hand. When he believed the night belonged to him and Sīān, uninvited guests appeared at his private villa.
The heavy chime of the doorbell echoed through the spacious halls. His jaw clenched.
(Has my home turned into a bus station?) He thought bitterly, striding toward the door with long, rigid steps. His expression was carved with irritation, the faintest furrow of his brows betraying how unwelcome he found the interruption. Shadows deepened across his face, giving him the air of a man robbed of something precious.
