Some were playing cards, some chatting on their phones, some reading books, and some smoking.
Huddled in a corner by himself, Lin Chuan was carefully crafting a text message on his phone: "Sis, I'm sorry, the incident last night was a misunderstanding, I hope you will listen to my explanation when you return."
A message with just over twenty characters took Lin Chuan a full ten minutes to compose. The typing was slow, the phone was crummy. He had to carefully press each key. Having finally sent the message, Lin Chuan felt as though a weight had been lifted from his heart.
However, just thinking about last night's misunderstanding made Lin Chuan feel a desperate urge to die.
