Song Lin thought for a moment, then sighed softly and said, "Drinking... it started in these past two days, which was the day Little Shu left, but... ever since she came back from the United States, she seems to have been preoccupied with something, and she won't tell what it is. At first, I thought... I thought..." As she spoke, a blush crept onto Song Lin's face, and she didn't know how to continue.
"Thought what?" Zhang Ziwen couldn't hear the rest and, seeing the bashfulness on Song Lin's face, grew even more anxious.
"How do you expect someone to say that..." With her cheeks flushed, Song Lin murmured in a low voice, "That night... don't you know what you did?"
Though her voice was soft, Zhang Ziwen heard her clearly. The absurd events of that night flashed through his mind, bringing embarrassment—that was a topic difficult for anyone to broach.
