Shen Mingfeng looked at his empty hand and laughed, "Really? But I don't believe there are miracles in this world."
After speaking, he lay down and closed his eyes slightly, "I'm a bit tired, you should go back and do what you need to do, what you want to do."
He gently closed his eyes, his voice warm and soft.
Jian Yanyan looked at him, pressed her lips together, tucked the quilt corner for him, then got up, holding her phone and glanced at the time—it was already past four.
She went to the corridor to call Su Junhao, but his phone was always busy.
She was a bit anxious, not knowing whom he was calling, and why it was always busy.
As for Su Junhao, he had returned to the apartment, fuming, and lay on the bed for a long time. The driver brought up two big bags of his packed belongings, which made him even more angry, and he threw them straight down from upstairs.
After the driver left, he wandered around the apartment, not knowing what he was doing.
