Shen Jing had slept too much during the day and now found herself wide awake at night. She tied the sash of her pajamas, sat at the bar, and began to peel an orange. He refused to share a bed with her. It wasn't that he pitied her; he simply couldn't sleep with her.
MEOW.
Miaomiao jumped into Shen Jing's arms, acting spoiled.
She stroked the cat's fur. "It's sour. You can't eat it."
Miaomiao twitched her whiskers and settled down.
Xing Fei started a video call; they were both night owls.
"Jingjing isn't coming back?"
Shen Jing lowered her head, carefully peeling the pith from the orange. "She's sick."
Xing Fei, on the other side of the screen, eyed her suspiciously. "Sick where? You look quite fair-skinned."
Shen Jing popped an orange segment into her mouth. "Bad back."
"Where did you fall?"
"The floor."
Xing Fei's brow suddenly smoothed. "Is the floor in Young Master Zhou's mansion that slippery? Tell him to carpet the whole place. What if you fall again?"
