"Hey, hey, hey."
The cool morning breeze rang the wind chimes by the window, and the golden dawn gently caressed the faces of the two people in bed. Qing Lan kept shaking Le Yu's shoulder until Le Yu sleepily wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth: "Ah, is it time for lunch?"
"It's only seven o'clock. It's more like time to get up for breakfast. I haven't even gone to the press yet."
"Oh, oh, oh, safe travels." With that, Le Yu pulled the thin silk blanket over himself, turned his body to avoid the morning light shining on his face: "While you're at it, close the curtains, please."
"Hey," Qing Lan wrapped her arms around Le Yu's neck and whispered, "I just woke up and suddenly felt a little nauseous. It took a while to feel better, but I didn't even have a late-night snack last night. Do you think I might be..."
"Living on the edge?"
