The apartment.
Yue Chen's room radiated warmth and peace. Soft blue wallpaper lent the walls a tranquil air, and the room's layout was simple yet full of personality. Every piece of furniture and decoration seemed perfectly placed, revealing the care its owner had put into it.
The curtains were half drawn. Sunlight filtered through the thin fabric, casting patches of light and shadow across the floor. A bookshelf nearby held all sorts of books, all of them looking terribly battered. Some had huge sections missing; others were covered in inscrutable symbols. They were practically unreadable.
During Yue Chen's childhood, books had been her only companions-even if she had only one, a tattered book that was almost impossible to read. Rain and filthy water had stained its writing beyond recognition. Yet after scavenging for the supplies she needed to survive each day, even when she was so exhausted she could almost cry, Yue Chen would turn its pages with tears in her eyes, learning one character at a time.
That had left Yue Chen with a habit of buying a few books wherever she went, even for a temporary place to stay.
A white writing desk stood on one side of the room, with a pen holder, a notebook, and an unusually shaped lamp neatly arranged on top.
"Do whatever you please. So that's what this idiom means. I get it now. Do whatever you please..."
Yue Chen lay over the desk, writing on a plastic board with a fountain pen. After a while, the words began to fade until the board was blank again.
The bed was covered with soft blue sheets, its bedding neatly folded. Several comfortable cushions rested at the head, while a few adorable toys quietly kept Yue Chen company on the bed. Each doll had its