No one truly slept that night.
The corridors stayed too quiet.
The silence felt too full.
Every creak, every shift in the walls made the hair on their arms rise.
Someone coughed once in the dark, and half the room jolted upright, their breaths held.
By the time dawn arrived, the group moved as if sleep had only flirted with them and never followed through.
They gathered outside the maintenance room without speaking, each one tense, exchanging short glances but no words.
Qingran was the one to open the door.
She stepped in first.
Wei Sheng sat upright on the edge of the bed, hands resting calmly on his lap. He looked up as if they'd merely interrupted a nap.
His face was clean and his eyes were clear.
No tears.
No twitching.
No laughter.
And not a single bruise.
Qingran eyes widened but she quickly recovered her composure.
That was impossible.
Yu Song stepped forward and frowned. "You… feeling alright?"
