The study room was not lit, only the light from outside shone in.
Shen Yanchen stood by the window, his fingertips glowing with a faint red light, almost burned out.
He took one last drag, exhaled the white smoke, and extinguished the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the windowsill, which already had several butts in it.
As he exhaled the white smoke, he let out a long breath, then took out his phone, found an unnamed number in the call log, and dialed it.
A woman's voice answered.
"Did I call the wrong number?" That was the woman's opening line.
Shen Yanchen got straight to the point: "Are you free tomorrow night?"
"I wasn't, but if it's you, I can make time."
Shen Yanchen didn't hesitate: "Then make time for me. I'll come pick you up at seven in the evening."
The woman was straightforward: "Okay, I'll wait for you."
