That night, Mu Yan had a dream.
In the dream, she had just woken up from bed and felt a bit hungry, so she casually called out, "Honey."
No one responded, so she turned her head to look at the spot beside her—empty.
She touched the bed sheet; it was ice-cold, clearly indicating that the person beside her had been up for a long time.
She glanced out the window, gray and hazy. It seemed early; why did he get up so early?
Mu Yan touched her stomach; she was really hungry.
She got out of bed and headed downstairs.
Even though it was summer, she felt a damp chill in the air, a cold that seeped into her pores and merged into her bones, making her shiver involuntarily.
Is it going to rain?
She wondered as she continued to walk downstairs.
Downstairs was equally silent, not a sound to be heard. She vaguely felt that the house seemed a bit different, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly how.
He got up so early, where could he be if not downstairs?
