In the early morning, Luo Xiyun woke up from her sleep and saw the familiar ceiling, feeling momentarily disoriented. She reached out to her side, only to grasp emptiness.
It dawned on her that she wasn't in that villa, and Chen Xu wasn't lying beside her.
She sat up and turned her head toward the window. The window was not shut properly, and occasionally the wind blew in, lifting the curtain. The lifted corner revealed a patch of golden sunlight streaming in, forming a bright spot on the red wooden floor. When the curtain fell back into place, the bright spot disappeared.
Everything here was exactly the same as the room in the villa, even the pattern and color of the quilt covering her was identical.
But she knew, no matter how similar it was made, this was not the same room as before, because it lacked one thing.
