The streetlights were a blur as Shen Jing walked back to the hotel along the path. She felt dejected, having truly experienced what it meant that "there's always someone better out there." She looked up. The plane from the airport must have just taken off; its red lights flickered intermittently in the hazy night sky. She was a little sad.
Her fingers had already dialed Zhou Luchen's number unconsciously. This uncontrollable urge to reach out to him was overwhelming and passionate. After a long time with no answer, just as Shen Jing was about to hang up, the call finally connected. What was he doing at this hour? Where was he degenerating? The sound from the receiver was unusually quiet; the man's slow, drawn-out breaths twined around her ear, especially languid. "What's up?"
Shen Jing spoke softly, "Where are you?"
