A black car pulled to a gentle stop at the roadside.
The door opened and a young man got out, exuding an air of indifference, showing no emotional fluctuation, as cold as a piercing winter wind.
Fu Chi looked up at the looming misty rain, a silver gauze seemed to be draped over everything in the mist.
"Where are we?"
"Yinding Concert Hall."
"Let's go."
He nodded slightly and got back into the car.
Qian Yu naturally followed him into the car.
Bo Wen hurried after them, hooking an arm around Qian Yu's shoulder: "Hey, why don't you greet me anymore? Your temper's getting weirder and weirder. Smile more, otherwise, you won't find a wife."
Qian Yu's face remained expressionless: "Let go."
Bo Wen blinked and immediately raised his hands in surrender.
But he didn't stop his chattering.
Chirping away.
"We've been together all these years, and you're always keeping a straight face, just like an icicle."
In response, there was the sound of the car door closing.
