Much later, the bedroom had fallen quiet. The silk sheets were tangled once again.
Gui Ting Fei lay on his stomach, one arm tucked beneath his pillow. His breathing had gradually slowed.
Beside him, Ji Chu Hua stared at the ceiling. Her brown hair spread across the pillow.
Her expression was distant.
Despite the exhaustion weighing on her body, sleep refused to come.
Her thoughts kept returning to the same things.
The phone call.
The man's arrogant commands.
The way he dismissed her without letting her respond.
Then her thoughts took a drastic turn.
Grandfather Ji.
Her lips tightened.
The old man was dying.
Only a handful of very close people knew his health was deteriorating.
And yet, even now, he continued treating her as though she were unworthy of carrying the Ji family name.
Her expression darkened.
She remembered the hospital.
The way he had ordered her away.
The disappointment in his eyes.
The coldness of his voice.
