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By the time Jing Qi woke from the bizarre, kaleidoscopic dreamland of the drug’s effects, the sky outside was already entirely black. Only one dusky lantern was shining in the corner of the room. A teen quietly sat there holding a book up, looking like he hadn’t moved for a very long time.
Wu Xi promptly detected the change in his breathing, of course, and lifted his head to look at him. “You accidentally inhaled a bit of a knockout drug,” he whispered. “The antidote was fed to you. There’s no headache now, right?” It wasn’t clear whether it was Jing Qi’s misconception or what, but he overall felt that Wu Xi’s attitude seemed to have changed a little, being somewhat too unnaturally estranged.