The ashtray on the desk was full of cigarette butts.
Fu Tingyu rarely smoked, especially while Qin Shu was around. Since they had gotten together, he practically never smoked.
After Qin Shu got pregnant, he did not smoke even if she was not in front of him.
But now, now that she had disappeared, his need for a draught returned with a vengeance. They say old habits die hard - and for a reason.
One cigarette after another was lit and discarded.
It was a moonless night. The only source of light spilling forth from a dim lamp hanging over his desk. Shadows and macabre shapes beyond imagination flickered in the study.
Fu Tingyu lay slumped against his desk, clouds of trailing smoke shrouding his body like a heavy blanket.
Four days had passed, and still, there was no news of Qin Shu at all.
