After finishing dinner, Wei Anning sat in the restaurant for a while. Snowflakes danced outside the window. She stood up, walked out of the hotel, strode along the baroque-style corridor, and stopped beside a Roman column, reaching out to catch the snow.
Snowflakes landed in her palm, icy cold. Her heart felt even colder.
Leaning against the Roman column, the image of the man's handsome face, faintly tinged with hostility, flashed before her eyes. The ache in her heart made it hard to breathe. Sometimes, remembering was less painful than meeting again. And yet, she still longed to see him, even if it meant a self-inflicted torment.
When she returned to the room, Leng Youchen wasn't there. She felt a mix of relief and disappointment.
She walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, staring at the black suitcase tucked into the corner, lost in thought.
