Depression was a terrible mental illness. Su Xiaoying and Feng Sinan had known each other for more than ten years, and they had finally reached this stage.
Feng Sinan took off his black tweed overcoat and a handmade version of a white shirt. The top-grade material was ironed to the point that there was not a single wrinkle. The straight shoulders and the powerful shoulder blades at the back formed a line, it was an indescribable mature and charming man’s texture.
Feng Sinan stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with his long legs. He had one hand in his trouser pocket, and the other hand was holding a cigarette between his slender fingers. The smoke had blurred his handsome face, and his entire person appeared profound and silent.
He knew that Su Xiaoying’s depression was getting more and more serious.
Today, Su Xiaoying had fallen asleep sitting in such a dangerous place on the balcony. He did not know what more dangerous actions she would make next time.
