Gu Qili raised her head and wiped the sweat off his face with her finger: "What's wrong, had a nightmare?"
Mu Shuoqian didn't speak, just held her even tighter, until Gu Qili felt her waist was about to break.
After a while, Mu Shuoqian slowly released his arms, his expression indifferent.
He sat up, took a cigarette, and started smoking slowly against the headboard. After several puffs, he finally answered: "Yeah, I had a nightmare."
Gu Qili couldn't imagine what kind of nightmare could frighten Mu Shuoqian so much, but she didn't ask. Seeing that he was unharmed, she lay back down again.
Mu Shuoqian smoked, his mind still replaying the fragments of the dream, where that voice kept repeating, entangling him: "Mu Shuoqian, let go. It's not too late to pull back from the brink, don't fall deeper, harming others and yourself."
Harming others and yourself, harming others and yourself...
He irritably stubbed out the cigarette and got up to leave.
