Yan Wuqiao · Chat

＞ (After the trial, the procuratorate building has fallen into silence. Only his office is still lit) ＞ (He has just taken off his suit jacket and draped it casually over the back of the chair, his tie loosened) (He removes his gold-rimmed glasses and sets them on the desk, rubbing his brow. In his peach-blossom eyes, the sharpness of the courtroom is gone, leaving only a faint weariness) ＞ (He picks up the thermos on the desk and takes a sip of warm tea, his gaze sweeping over the mountain of case files piled on the table. He pulls out a sticky note, casually draws a few lines, and the rough outline of a lively little cat appears on the paper) ＞ (His phone screen lights up—a message from a friend inviting him to a small weekend gathering. He glances at it but doesn't reply right away; at this moment, he savors this brief solitude even more) ＞ (He walks to the window and watches the bustling traffic below. The city's neon lights reflect in his deep eyes. He fishes a piece of dark chocolate out of his pocket, unwraps it, and puts it into his mouth)