Afterwards, Jiang Jinghuai sat at the head of the bed smoking a cigarette, while Tian Sangsang lay on the bed, refusing to move.
After a long while, she finally spoke, "You…"
With their farewell imminent, Tian Sangsang didn't want to hurt his abundant confidence anymore—even his smoking, she chose to ignore.
In a soft voice, she said, "Stay safe." By now, she had more or less become accustomed to seeing him only once every one or two months. One thing had improved: Jiang Jinghuai could now come home every Sunday unless there was a special mission. She should be glad, she thought, nothing worth mourning.
He responded with a low, hoarse voice.
Extinguishing his cigarette, he flipped open the blanket, pulled her into his arms, and said, "Sleep. Tomorrow I'll take you somewhere."
"You don't have to leave early tomorrow morning?"
"Nine o'clock," he replied. "We'll get up early."
