Wen Fucheng's 'Good night, Jing Bao' didn't help Ying Jing fall asleep.
Instead, it made her excited all night long.
The next day, Ying Zenan got up and walked into the living room, faced with a floor full of boxes and foam, alongside various miscellaneous items, and on the dining table, there was a half-eaten watermelon with a spoon stuck into it, lost in thought.
Did the house get robbed!
The man silently raised his phone, intending to call the police when a hand stretched out from behind the sofa and rested on the armrest.
Ying Jing appeared with two dark circles under her eyes, looking dazed.
"Brother, good morning."
After speaking, she fell back again.
Ying Zenan bent his knee on the sofa, his hands resting on the soft sofa back.
"You didn't sleep here all night, did you?"
The person lying flat on the floor mumbled a few sentences.
"I'm really sleepy now, if you have anything to report, if not, leave."
