Bright sunlight streamed into the room through the wide floor-to-ceiling windows.
It was another beautiful, peaceful day.
Zhang Liqin slowly woke up in the large, comfortable bed. She stretched lazily. Even in her loose pajamas, her mature, curvaceous figure remained impossible to hide, radiating an instinctive allure.
But then her gaze shifted.
The room was empty.
Yang Jian was not there.
Or rather, he had already left after she fell asleep last night.
Yang Jian is becoming less and less interested in me. Zhang Liqin fell silent, an inexplicable sense of crisis rising within her.
That meant that if things continued like this, she would become dispensable and could be replaced at any time.
She thought of Jiang Yan.
Jiang Yan seemed to have realized this too, so she had changed her strategy. She had gone to Yang Jian's hometown to cling to his aunt, probably thinking that if she could not be Yang Jian's lover, then she would become Yang Jian's family.
Looking at the thick notebook by the bed,
Zhang Liqin understood Yang Jian's past and everything he had been through.
She knew that by the time Yang Jian had come this far, he had abandoned emotions, desires, and even life itself, becoming some kind of incomprehensible aberration.
Love no longer existed in the hearts of people like him.
Yet she had fallen for someone she never should have fallen for.
If Yang Jian dismissed her someday, Zhang Liqin did not know how she could survive in this supernatural world. Perhaps she would spend every day imagining the worst until she went mad, or perhaps the enormous pressure of survival would drive her to end her own life early.
Because she knew too much.
The more Zhang Liqin learned about the supernatural circle, the more terrified she became.