The next day marked a fresh start, a morning exceptionally bright and sunny.
On every street and in every alley, people bustled about, rushing to make a living. School buses were filled with students in matching uniforms, and bus stops were crammed with office drones trying to get to work.
The windows of cars parked by the roadside were coated in frost, having been battered by the cold wind all night.
In the early morning, the liveliest places were the breakfast shops. A biting wind swept through as the gentle sun, offering little in the way of warmth, illuminated the hazy steam. One by one, baskets of fresh soup dumplings were taken from the steamers and carried to the diners' tables.
The world outside was crowded and noisy.
But just a few buildings away, in the bedroom of unit 1302 in Fengting District, the only sound was that of quiet, peaceful breathing.
Soft and slow.
