This Time Last Year

Late at night, the soft light of the snow threw some light through the window into a spacious study. Mo Yixuan leaned against the swivel chair, his expression serious. He held a stick of cigarette in his right hand which was already half finished.

There was also a box of cigarettes on his study table but the box was empty. He had smoked his way through an entire packet.

He wasn't even sure how many sticks of cigarettes he had gone through but the smoke filled the entire study.

The maids had brought up his food but he didn't even touch it. Since his fight with Xia Yuwei he had touched neither food nor water.

He rose to his feet and pursed his chapped lips tightly. He walked to the windowsill and pushed open the glass window. Soon, the chilly wind entered and blew bitingly across his face like knives and he could feel the chill down to his bones.