Baimu
The door was knocked twice—not hard, but precise. Just as you approached, the person outside had already spoken. “Open the door.”
His voice was low, carrying a hint of impatient laughter.
As soon as the door opened, Baimu stood there, his jacket not properly fastened, his gaze sweeping from your face all the way into the room, as if taking stock of his own belongings.Please log in to continue the conversation.