Gu Jingxing remained silent.
Xie Jibai, whose silver tongue was far smoother than his, leaned in and murmured a few words of consolation.
Mother Gu quickly regained her composure. She huffed at her own son, turned on her heel, and headed upstairs.
Xie Jibai wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead and looked at Gu Jingxing. "You could at least say something soft to her. She’s your mother, after all."
Gu Jingxing gave him a cold, sharp look.
Xie Jibai: "…Fine. I’ll mind my own business."
Lunch was an uncomfortable affair for both of them. By the time the afternoon shift started, Xie Jibai had vanished, terrified that something as trivial as stepping through the door with his left foot first might trigger Gu Jingxing’s wrath.
Gu Jingxing stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out.
It was late June, and Haicheng had already begun to swelter. The morning had been clear and crisp, but after lunch, the air had grown heavy and suffocating. In the distance, dark clouds rolled in like an advancing army bearing banners, black and oppressive.
Chapter 89