It's already 10:15, and she still hasn't come back?
Unable to help himself, he leaned out the window, looking upwards.
Feng Jinglei's apartment was on the third floor, directly above his own room.
Through the night, he could see there were no lights on in her room, confirming she hadn't returned.
Whether it was worry or irritation, he felt sleepless and went downstairs, sitting on the sofa with a glass of red wine in hand.
All of this was just a pretense, as if waiting to see when exactly Feng Jinglei would return, and where she might have gone so late?
He turned on the TV, but barely registered what was being broadcast, his mind in disarray.
He was worried about that woman; despite the words she'd spoken, he still worried about her.
Draining his glass of wine, he poured another.
At 10:30, Feng Jinglei still hadn't come back.
Just then, the TV suddenly interrupted the program with breaking news.
