The piercing screech of the brakes was eerily similar to the sound marking the end of a dream in the dead of night.
Yet that lone blurred silhouette remained indistinct and unrecognizable to Qingran.
With a hand, she silenced the alarm clock only to feel a fatigue that intensified rather than subsided after a night's sleep.
The temperature in the room was somewhat low, indicating that she had forgotten to set a timer for the air conditioning again last night.
Her throat was dry and sore, like she hadn't drank water in ages, and as she sat up in bed, her head started to throb with pain.
Qingran turned off the humidifier, its red light indicating a lack of water, and also switched off the air conditioner, enduring the discomfort as she walked to the bathroom.
Qingran thought washing her face might ease the discomfort, but after rinsing, she felt even worse, especially her head, which throbbed as if it would split open.
