Han Chen stood there staring at her, his expression tight with barely concealed annoyance, though something flickered in his eyes that she couldn't quite catch. His grip on her arm was firm, almost desperate, his fingers digging into her dress.
"Where have you been?" His voice was rough, tingled with a subtle edge, and she noticed the slight disorder of his appearance—the disheveled hair, the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked…irritated and a little frantic.
Feng Mian met his gaze coolly, her face betraying no emotion. Without a word, she calmly removed his hand from her arm, letting it drop as she took a step back. "wasn't my business any of your concern?" she replied, her tone even and detached, as if speaking to a stranger. She held his gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning on her heel and heading inside.
Han Chen stood there watching her as she walked away. She moved with a quiet confidence, a sense of finality that seemed to place an invisible wall between them.
Exiting the elevator, Feng Mian made her way down the corridor toward their apartment, her face impassive, her steps steady. She didn't glance back, didn't hesitate. For the first time, she felt no need to explain herself, no urge to wait for him to follow. The door closed behind her with a quiet click, sealing the distance between them.
When it was time for dinner, they sat across from each other at the dining table, a quiet tension hanging in the air. Feng Mian ate in silence, her gaze focused solely on her plate. She didn't look up once, unlike before, when she would steal glances in his direction, hoping to catch a reaction to the food she'd carefully prepared. But his face had always been passive, unmoved by her efforts, so now, she didn't bother anymore.
The apartment was silent, save for the soft clinking of chopsticks against plates.
"I booked a trip," Han Chen's voice broke the quiet.
She paused, chopsticks hovering mid-air, but didn't lift her head. "You don't need to tell me," she replied flatly, going back to her food.
"You're coming along," he said, his tone calm as he picked at his meal.
This time, she looked up, her eyes finally meeting his. There is a hint of surprise in her gaze. A small, bitter smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she quickly swallowed it.
"I'm not feeling well," she said quietly. "No need to bother with me."
Without waiting for a response, she placed her chopsticks down, pushed her chair back, and made to stand up. But Han Chen was already moving, gathering his own plate and the dishes she'd left, his expression unfazed.
"You can rest plenty there," he replied, heading toward the kitchen sink. The sight of him clearing the table isn't that bizzare anymore, since there are many things that are different after the accident.
She stood there, watching him, a flicker of something unidentifiable in her gaze. He hadn't shown this level of persistence before, . But still, she didn't respond, and left silently unwilling to engage in another battle of words.
The afternoon sun blazed down on the crowded street, casting a golden glow over the bustling marketplace. Vendors called out from their stalls, and the air was filled with the mingling scents of clothes and fresh flowers. Feng Mian stood in front of a clothing boutique, her gaze wandering over the display in the window. She couldn't help but wonder, once again, why she had let herself be dragged out here.
Just then, she heard Lin Jia's dramatic sigh behind her. "Honestly, Feng Mian, I feel like I'm dragging a mannequin around! Could you at least pretend to enjoy this?"
A chuckle escaped Feng Mian's lips, the first genuine laugh she'd felt appear in days. She glanced at Lin Jia, who was looking at her with mock exasperation, hands on her hips. Lin Jia had shown up unannounced at her apartment early this morning, bright and early, and straight away announced they are going shopping. Feng Mian knew exactly why—her friend was worried, and this was her way of lifting Feng Mian's spirits, a silent gesture of support.
So, despite her initial resistance, Feng Mian had let herself be pulled along, indulging Lin Jia's endless energy. Now, here she was, hands full of shopping bags, while her friend scanned the street, clearly still on the hunt for the next bargain.
"This is the last shop I'm going to," Feng Mian said, feigning a stern look as she hefted the bags in her hands. "I mean it, Lin Jia. If you try to drag me into one more store, I'll leave you alone here to fend for yourself."
Lin Jia nodded vigorously, her expression both apologetic and mischievous. "Yes, yes, I swear! No more stores after this, I promise." Feng Mian shook her head, amused despite herself.
They stepped into the shop, and are greeted by a salesperson who welcomed them with a warm smile. Lin Jia barely paused to acknowledge the greeting before making a beeline for the dress section, her eyes alight with excitement as she began rummaging through the racks of dress.
Feng Mian trailed behind her, looking over the selection with little interest, her gaze drifting passively from one dress to the next. She wasn't in the mood for shopping, but seeing Lin Jia so enthusiastic brought a faint warmth to her heart.
"Mian Mian! Try this one!" Lin Jia exclaimed, holding up a dress with a sparkle in her eye. The dress was a deep emerald green, elegant and modest in design, with a fitted top that flared out gently at the waist. The neckline was a soft, flattering V without revealing too much, and the sleeves flowed delicately down to her elbows, leaving just a hint of her shoulders exposed. It was a dress that balanced modesty with a quiet allure, the rich color making it feel effortlessly classy yet subtly sexy.
Feng Mian shook her head, pushing the dress back gently. "You go for it. I already have enough clothes to last me a lifetime," she replied, a small, weary smile on her lips.
Lin Jia rolled her eyes, refusing to take no for an answer. "Ayy, it's not my style. This dress has you written all over it." She placed the dress firmly in Feng Mian's hands, giving her a gentle nudge toward the changing rooms. "Now, go on. Try it!"
Too tired to argue, Feng Mian sighed and allowed herself to be ushered toward the changing rooms. She slipped into the dress, adjusting the fabric over her shoulders, feeling the smooth texture against her skin. It fit her perfectly, hugging her figure in a way that felt both comfortable and unexpectedly flattering.
When she stepped out, Lin Jia's face lit up, a grin spreading across her features as she took in Feng Mian's appearance. "I knew it! You look amazing," she declared, her tone filled with the pride of someone who had just made the perfect choice.
"We're buying this," Lin Jia announced, not giving Feng Mian a chance to protest as she waved down the salesperson.
Feng Mian sighed, a hint of amusement tugging at her lips. "Whatever," she murmured, turning to head back into the changing room to slip out of the dress. Lin Jia isn't going to let her have her way anyway.