On a certain spot on the roof, a shadow stood silently, his deep inner strength allowing him to hear the conversations and movements inside the house clearly. His hands behind his back were clenched into fists, so tight that his nails pierced his palms without him even realizing it.
For a long time, so long that the bedsheets in the room had vanished, and the dew had soaked his clothes, the shadow finally moved his stiff joints and then leapt away.
On the eaves, Xiaoyin sighed, "This person is too obsessed."
Xiaolun flicked its tongue, "If I'd known it would be like this, I wouldn't have saved him."
"That's not the same." Xiaoyin shook his head, "Saving lives is a good deed. When we don't know if the other person is good or bad, madam wouldn't just stand by."
"The wife has a point."
