In the hotel room, Zhuang Chujiao's mind was in complete chaos. She sat on the floor, back against the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
At night, the lights of Upper City flowed like a river; streaks of light flashed past her eyes, yet they couldn't disperse the gloom in her heart.
She hated, she raged, but more than that she felt powerless, as if no matter what she did she would still lose; yet she was unwilling to accept it, as though she herself had fallen into a dead-end alley.
She didn't know how much time had passed when the doorbell rang.
Zhuang Chujiao snapped back to herself as if waking from a dream and suddenly stood up.
Only the wall lamp was on in the room, making it somewhat dim. She immediately went to turn on the rest of the lights, then went to open the door.
Seeing the man standing at the door, all the grievance in her chest surged up and she called out, "Brother Yutai, you finally came back."
