Zhaoyan sat calmly on the sofa, sipping his coffee. He hadn't gone to the office —partly because he felt too embarrassed to face Yichen after asking him such a strange thing yesterday.
The door opened and in came Mr. Feng, his longtime friend. He grinned as he dropped onto the sofa beside Zhaoyan.
"Woah, my strict friend Mr. Zhaoyan, staying home? That's rare. What happened?"
Zhaoyan didn't even look at him. His tone was flat.
"What are you doing here?"
"When I heard you're home, I rushed over," Feng said cheerfully. "And guess what? I found a solution for your… disease."
"I have no disease," Zhaoyan replied coldly, taking another sip.
Feng leaned closer, smirking. "Fine, let's call it your 'dream problem.' The voice you always hear. My mom told me we should visit a Daoist temple. The priest there can definitely help you."
"I'm not going," Zhaoyan said curtly.
"Why not? Don't be stubborn." Feng grabbed his arm, tugging. "Come with me."
