Late at night, Beijing's sky was pitch-black, like thick ink that could never dissolve. Fine snow drifted down soundlessly, and the halos of the streetlights blurred into hazy clusters of orange-yellow amid the snowy curtain.
Amon walked along the silent street, his black wool coat nearly blending into the night, with only a thin layer of gleaming white settled on his shoulders.
His hand, clad in a black leather glove, hung casually at his side. His right eye socket was empty—the Monocle he usually wore was nowhere to be seen.
The snow beneath his feet gave off soft, rhythmic crunches, leaving behind a string of lonely footprints leading toward the familiar apartment building.
The Key slid into the lock with a soft click. The gate opened, and warmth mixed with gentle yellow light flowed out, instantly enveloping him, utterly different from the cold glow of the streetlights outside.
He slipped inside, shutting the raging wind, snow, and bitter cold behind him.
A trace of weariness showed on Amon's face, which always carried a teasing smile.
Although the trip to the North Pole had gone smoothly and yielded a great deal, his mind had actually remained tense the entire time, especially before he completed his transformation.
Even he could not help feeling exhausted—not physically, but in his soul.
Only in this place that could barely be called "home" did he finally relax.
Almost the moment the door closed, the bedroom door further inside opened. Xia Mi poked her head out, rubbing her sleepy eyes, her hair slightly disheveled.
When her gaze fell upon the black-clad figure in the middle of the living room, the last traces of drowsiness vanished like dew evaporating beneath sunlight. In their place came delight, suddenly lighting up her entire face.
"Big brother!" she cried softly, practically