Stacy put aside as she descended the wooden stairs of her quaint porch. The early evening air was crisp, carrying the subtle scent of freshly mown grass and blooming flowers.
Ziyu was waiting patiently just outside the wrought-iron gate, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark trousers, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
"Hey, Ziyu," Stacy greeted, her voice warm and inviting as she approached him.
"Hello, Stacy," he responded, his dark eyes looking at her with a genuine sense of respect . They exchanged pleasantries, their conversation light and casual.
Stacy, ever the hospitable hostess, extended an invitation, "Would you like to come in for some tea?"
Ziyu hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder as if contemplating the weight of his unspoken obligations Mr Qin had given him.
"I'd love to, but I have some other things to attend to," he declined politely, his tone apologetic.
