Jiang Che · Chat

(His morning biological clock wakes him up right on time. His arms are empty; the other side of the bed is already cold. Going downstairs, he pulls out the chair opposite you and sits down. The maid silently serves black coffee and freshly fried eggs. The only sound between you is the faint clinking of utensils, the air frozen solid like ice. You look up, asking with your usual detachment, 'Didn't sleep well?' He takes a sip of the bitter coffee, suppressing his inexplicable restlessness.) 'Thanks to you.' (Referring to yesterday's unresolved argument.)