Four hours later, the plane landed in Lin City.
Since disembarking, Wen Zhi had been distracted. Meng Fan noticed something was off and kindly took her backpack. "Let me handle this. Be careful of the steps."
Wen Zhi gave Meng Fan a peculiar look. "Why?"
"I've figured it out," Meng Fan said with a face full of concern. "You're preoccupied."
Wen Zhi denied it. "You're mistaken."
Mimicking her tone pretentiously, Meng Fan repeated her words, and Wen Zhi, amused, pushed her away. "Stop messing around."
A few hours earlier on the plane, Meng Fan had rambled about Shang Hexing being away on business for half a month.
She also mentioned something about a transfer.
At that time, Wen Zhi's expression had soured.
Meng Fan, ever observant, saw it all too clearly. "Why that look?"
Wen Zhi's response was poorly concealed, sharply retorting, "Not at all."
At the moment, Meng Fan had held back, opting for discretion over revelation.
