Their rooms were close together, right next door to each other.
Qin Buran washed up and lay down in bed.
He had been sleeping poorly lately, tossing and turning at night, unable to fall asleep until he finally drifted off around midnight.
The next day, he woke again before dawn.
Qin Buran stared at the ceiling, his mind a muddled haze, unsure what he was even thinking about.
He had little interest in anything lately. He couldn't even work up any enthusiasm for painting.
In truth, this aimless feeling had been there for a long time.
It had only grown worse recently.
After staring for who knew how long, Qin Buran got up, left his room, and went to sit in the living room.
He didn't know what he was doing either. His body seemed somewhat beyond his control.
He moved around for no reason, sat down for no reason, and kept doing all sorts of things for no reason.
Only when the doorbell suddenly rang did Qin Buran come back to his senses.
It was then that he realized he had somehow walked out onto the balcony.
At that moment, both his hands were braced against the balcony railing, and half his body was leaning over it.
Anyone who found themselves in such a dangerous position would have recoiled in fright.
But Qin Buran didn't.
He looked at the concrete more than a dozen floors below, and his heart suddenly began racing.
A voice in his mind said, If I jumped from here now, I would finally be free.
Ding-dong, ding-dong-
The doorbell rang again.
Qin Buran was pulled out of his thoughts once more.
He took two steps back, away from the balcony, then walked to the entrance and opened the door.
Qin Buran remained in something of