The stairway in the residential building had only one yellow lamp for illumination, shining in the middle of the stairway connecting the two floors.
A gust of wind blew in from the entrance of the stairwell, carrying the chill of the night like wisps of water. She looked up and in a glance, saw a figure standing at the top of the stairs on the upper floor's corridor.
The Yao Family lived just one floor up from the Lu Family. Yao Zibao might have come out to clear his mind after dinner alone, standing at the turning point of the staircase, gazing at the distant view from the landing. Little did he know that just a short distance beneath him, there was someone watching him.
In Lin Jiajing's eyes, the silhouette of Yao Zibao at that moment, under the dim yellow light of the bulb, in his white shirt that glowed with a yellow hue, appeared delicate and slender, almost possessing a touch of the poetic.
