She scanned left and right, her gaze sharp, alert.
She had told him clearly, he wasn't getting a room. No bed. No water. No food unless she gave permission.
He was supposed to sleep on the hallway floor. Like the unwanted rat he was.
Her expression darkened.
"He's not here." she muttered, stalking down the corridor.
Meng Nian followed a few steps behind. "Maybe he curled up somewhere near the stairwell.."
She stopped suddenly.
A door to one of the rooms on the left was slightly ajar.
Her eyes narrowed. Quietly, she pushed it open.
There he was.
Zhang Yi curled up on the bed like he belonged there.
Fast asleep.
Blanket pulled neatly over him.
Pillow fluffed beneath his head.
As if he'd lived here for weeks.
Something inside her snapped.
He hadn't even waited a day. She had told him—explicitly—that he had no room, no bed, no comfort. And yet here he was, curled up like a cat in a sunbeam, making himself at home in a haven built by her sweat, her planning.
