That evening, after washing up at her hotel, Chen Jiao sat cross-legged before the light screen. Seeing it wasn't yet eleven, she lowered her head to copy her script, patiently waiting for eleven o'clock to arrive.
Meanwhile, Ye Rong, Yuan Sheng, Zhang Ping, and their henchmen were all waiting in that house. The closer the hands of the clock crept toward eleven, the more restless everyone became.
Old Cai held a medical book, his eyes periodically peering over the top of his glasses. He had been brought over by Ye Rong's men that evening. Of course, Old Cai himself also wanted to see what the episode would look like when it happened. After all, it was merely his own speculation, which had yet to be proven.
The minutes ticked by, one by one. Chen Jiao yawned. "So sleepy."
