At 5 a.m., Winter had been sitting on his bed for an hour.
His phone suddenly rang, the ringtone not very loud, but in this silent room, it seemed particularly abrupt. Winter's hand moved, reaching out to grab the phone.
The number on the phone was unfamiliar, Winter didn't know who it was, but instinctively felt that he shouldn't answer it.
The caller, however, was persistent, calling repeatedly, as though as long as Winter did not answer, they would keep calling.
After hesitating for ten minutes, Winter connected the call: "Hello..."
Nawei's voice echoed from the phone: "It's me..."
Upon hearing this, Winter's fingers moved, intending to hang up. Nawei seemed to know what he would do and hurriedly said, "Don't be in a rush to hang up, this is my last call to you, give me five minutes, I'll say it once."
The coldness in Winter's tone increased: "How do you know my number? Who told you?"
