He had barely slept.
When the morning finally came, Ling Yue dragged himself up, looked at Han Junhui's bed, and saw that it was empty. It didn't surprise him because the conversation they had last night proved that Han Junhui was in no mood to talk to him.
Ling Yue got dressed and, after having breakfast, headed toward the meeting place, forcing himself to pretend everything was fine. He was going to fake it—fake it until the universe stopped laughing at him.
The others were already gathered when he reached the courtyard. Wei Lang was leaning against the railing, while Bai Lu waved at him with both arms, as if trying to summon him from the heavens.
There was no sign of Han Junhui, even though he had left the room before him.
"Yue'er! Over here!"
Ling Yue walked over, forcing a smile that felt thin on his face.
"You look tired," Bai Lu whispered, leaning close and pointing to his eyes.
"I am fine," he replied softly.
