Zhang Qian thanked her, but never touched that bowl of cream mushroom soup again.
Just as that woman would never again sit across from her pretending to care.
She stepped out of the soup shop.
Zhang Qian walked back along the road of the university town.
Not far ahead, a figure caught her attention at a spicy crayfish stall.
Zhang Qian stopped, with one hand in her pocket, feeling the car keys pressing against her hand.
He Tang had packed some crayfish and was holding a cup of milk tea in her right hand, turning her head around.
He Tang didn't notice Zhang Qian, with wireless earbuds in her ears and wearing white sneakers, she lightly strode into a nearby alley.
Zhang Qian unconsciously followed her steps, heading towards the opposite alley.
The alley was scarcely populated, and the street lights dim.
He Tang's loose shirt was blown backward by the night wind, so much so that her slender silhouette was visible through the translucent fabric.
