By the time they reached the front of the mansion, Rouxi was still walking with her eyes closed.
Yuche watched her drift half a step to the left, one hand tucked into the sleeve of the shirt she had stolen from him, with her hair falling loose around her face and her expression caught somewhere between sleep and murder.
She was awake in the technical sense. She was vertical and moving forward, but that had more to do with Chenghai refusing to leave until she got dressed and out of bed. To say that Rouxi wasn't that far from a zombie like state right now wasn't a far off assessment. If the world had any sense of self-preservation, it would have waited until she had twelve hours of sleep and breakfast before presenting her with yet another problem that demanded her attention.
But the world had never been that intelligent.
