Although Fu Yang didn't think much of the teaching materials Fu Siyu had given him, he still flipped through them.
After all, he was quite curious about what sort of materials his old-fashioned father could have prepared for him.
Ten minutes later, Fu Yang had his evaluation: his father was indeed a pretentious weirdo.
At that moment, in the adjacent bedroom, Shu Wan was having another dream.
This time, there was no Qi Yuan in the dream, only vast swathes of red, like tightening membranes, ensnaring Shu Wan completely, no matter how much she struggled she could not break free.
She didn't know how long it had been when the branches outside the window, blown by the wind, tapped on the glass with a creaking sound, pulling Shu Wan out of the nightmare.
The light in the room was dim, as only a single lamp at the foot of the bed was on.
Shu Wan sat up from under the blanket, breathing lightly, the suffocation from the dream not yet faded, causing her some palpitations.
