Chapter 351

"Clatter..." Glass bottles collided, producing a sharp and lonely sound. In the pitch-black room, the heavy curtains were tightly drawn, leaving only a few streaks of pale moonlight filtering through the gaps, like the mocking gaze of fate, mercilessly spilling over the bottles scattered haphazardly across the floor. In that meager light, the bottles resembled a group of drunken, fallen failures, tilted this way and that. One of the wine bottles began to roll slowly in the aftermath of the collision, its crisp scraping sound echoing continuously through the dead silence. Until a slender yet slightly trembling hand reached out and steadied it firmly.