When Qing Shi Jiu got up, Ling Shan Jun had already left; half of the bed was ice-cold. He curled up around the blanket, took up the entire bed, closed his eyes and continued to sleep.
Until he was woken up by a person made of clay.
The rain outside became much smaller, Qing Shi Jiu ate a few bites of food super slowly, and from the headboard took out Ling Shan Jun’s book of travel notes to read.
The clay children followed close behind and cried out: “Madam has not finished eating.”
Qing Shi Jiu did not acknowledge them: “I’m full.”
