The dinner party had ended past nine o'clock, and outside, a drizzle had begun. Shen Zhiyi walked ahead, holding Duan Jiaze's hand, who frequently turned back, continuously throwing glances at Meng Qiming.
Meng Qiming helplessly met his gaze, signaling that things were not going smoothly.
"Sigh," Duan Jiaze sighed maturely, "Useless."
He wanted to make another effort, so he grabbed Shen Zhiyi's hand, "Zhizhi, let's take that uncle's car."
Shen Zhiyi appeared troubled.
At that moment, Meng Qiming joined in the conversation, "My car has already arrived, Zhiyi, let me give you a ride."
Indeed, a car approached from not far away, barely visible through the rain curtain and night shadows. Meng Qiming took a few steps towards it, recognizing that it was not his car.
But the car was already driving their way.
Duan Jiaze was oblivious, fearing that Shen Zhiyi would disagree, he continued to act coquettishly, his child's voice piercing through the night.
And the car had stopped.
