Ren Chenghao never knew that he had a romantic bone inside him until he met Song Xingyi.
The two of them were strolling on the street in the middle of the Flower Viewing Festival. No, hundred of years ago, the Flower Viewing Festival hadn't become a national festival yet. People were just appreciating the beauty of blooming flowers and inhaling the sweet fragrance in the air while enjoying themselves leisurely in the night market.
Because of the crowd, they were walking close to each other, their shoulders touching. Every once in a while, the tips of their fingers would brush against each other, and Ren Chenghao would pretend not to know anything, pulling his sleeves lower, his flushed cheeks hidden by the darkness.
