The fleeting longing in his eyes was caught by Jian Qing. She cocked an eyebrow, then quickly relaxed it.
It was that same look again.
Who the hell was he?
Why did it seem like with both times he saw her, he was yearning for someone else through her?
Suppressing her doubts, she asked softly, "Mr Shen, your wheelchair?"
"I've been frail since childhood and had a relapse not long ago. So I've been using a wheelchair these past few days. I'm feeling better today, so I came out for a walk." Shen Yan spoke slowly.
At his words, Jian Qing did not probe further.
The conversation lapsed into silence for a while.
"Miss Jian, if you don't mind, please accept this." Shen Yan extended his hand, a red talisman for protection laid flat in his palm.
Jian Qing glanced down at it but did not reach out to receive it.
She turned away, looked up at him. Her gaze was sharp, "who exactly are you?"
