The night had deepened, and December nights in Beijing were far from warm.
On the contrary, they were very cold.
The wind howled outside, gust after gust, yet inside, there was a father and son locked in a standoff, with neither choosing to give in.
Their similarly handsome faces were both marked by coldness.
The setting was the luxurious living room of the Jiang Family, where the rug on the floor had just been replaced the day before and was so clean you could walk on it barefoot.
Staying up late, Jiang Beici yawned with his phone in hand, even though there was still a game in progress.
He turned to look at Mrs. Jiang, also clad in pajamas, "Mom, how long have they been like this? Is this a game? Whoever speaks first loses?"
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Jiang shot him a glare. Considering the weekend had not yet ended, Jiang Beici continued to indulge in his late-night habits.
