Zhang Wang found himself back in bed. It was still night outside, but he felt as though dawn was around the corner and ready to catch up to him at any moment's notice.
Sleep evaded him. No matter how tired he felt and how much he tossed and turned, rest remained just out of reach.
Zhang Wang's thoughts were a mess.
He found that tossing away his annoyance and anger was still impossible, still lusting after the innocent Yu Yanlin that he had conjured in his mind. Such foolishness had ripened in his mind! What was he even thinking? That the Cruel White King himself could be a sweet and trustworthy person.
Lips pulled up in a scowl he tossed over in his bed. The window looking out at the sky still painted a pitch-black night that was without any moonlight. How somber and depressing. With a sigh, Zhang Wang forced his lids closed, trying to lull himself to sleep with the quiet of nighttime.
It was futile.
