The cold, silent night sky was bright as water under the moon, with only a few sparse stars hanging high.
Moonlight spilled softly through the car window. She was staring intently at the person before her, Jiang Chengsi, who had drunk too much, sleeping fitfully, his breathing unsteady, heavy and scorching, his brows tightly furrowed.
She frowned, her head aching slightly, unsure how to proceed.
Hesitatingly, she tentatively reached for the bulging pocket on his left side, which seemed to hold a phone.
The pocket on the right was further from her, so she had to lean over, inevitably brushing against him in the cramped space.
She supported herself with a hand on the car seat, her fingers tentatively feeling for his pocket. It seemed to hold something like keys from the outside.
But half of the pocket was pressed under his body, making it difficult to slip her hand in.
