In a villa on a rainy night, Lin Qingyi and Tang Zhiwei sat face-to-face on the leather sofa in the living room.
Outside the window, a torrential downpour lashed against the floor-to-ceiling glass, creating a rhythmic, percussive tapping. The fire in the fireplace flickered, casting shifting orange shadows across their faces and bathing their profiles in a gentle, warm glow.
When Mother Wu arrived with ginger tea, she found the two of them staring at the flames, locked in silence.
Chapter 83