"Bang!"
Han Wang's heart skipped a heavy beat.
She gazed at the cup that had slipped from her hand and shattered into countless pieces on the floor, her brows slightly furrowed.
She crouched down carefully to pick up the shards, her tightly knitted eyebrows still not relaxing. For some reason, she suddenly felt a sense of unease.
Could something bad be about to happen?
"What's wrong?"
Qiao Yun, hearing the commotion from Han Wang's room, poked her head through the doorway, her dark and beautiful eyes fixed on Han Wang.
"It's nothing, the cup fell."
Han Wang stood up and gave Qiao Yun a faint smile.
Qiao Yun let out an "oh" and said considerately, "Get some rest early. Don't stay up late."
"Alright." Han Wang's gaze softened, but then she seemed to remember something. She pursed her lips and asked, "Has he come back yet?"
