Jiang Xun lay on his side facing the window, his face buried against the edge of the duvet, leaving only a small part exposed.
Once he fell asleep, all his barbs and sharp edges receded. His brow relaxed, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. Who knew what pleasant thing he was dreaming about.
His breathing was soft and even. Occasionally, he turned over, rubbed his face against the pillow, mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, then sank back into deep slumber.
The tuft of hair that always stuck up so defiantly during the day now drooped limply over his forehead, swaying in the night breeze blowing in through the window.
Jiang Huaixiao watched for a long time.
His expression had not changed since he got into the car, but his secretary, who had worked for him for four years, noticed that President Jiang's fingers resting on the edge of the car window had tightened at some point.
"President Jiang?" the secretary ventured.
Jiang Huaixiao closed the car window.
"Let's go."
The black Bentley's engine started again. Its headlights cast two beams of white light across the dirt road as it rolled over the uneven ground and slowly headed toward the village entrance.
In the Village Committee office, the director had just gulped down her last cup of instant coffee when her assistant jogged in.
"Director, the station called. They asked about tonight's livestream-"
"Cancel the livestream." The director tossed the empty paper cup into the trash can, landing it squarely inside. "Tell the station the equipment room is undergoing maintenance tonight. We'll make it up tomorrow."
The assistant acknowledged her and was about to leave when she called him back.
"Have the editing team work overtime tonight. Put together a cut of the aerial footage of Shen