Seated inside a quiet restaurant, Qiu Yan sat opposite a young man whose calm face revealed nothing.
Her white jade fingers clutched the rim of her teacup, but she barely noticed the steam rising from it.
Her gaze never left the man across from her, and countless emotions flashed across her face like ripples on a disturbed pond.
Her thoughts were in complete disarray.
She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't even know where to start.
Everything happening before her felt unreal, like a dream she couldn't wake from. Yet, she knew all too well that this was no illusion. It was real.
Mo Jian watched her silently, his expression unchanged.
He raised his cup of spirit tea and sipped it with deliberate calmness, his every movement steady, unhurried.
He was not surprised that she had recognized him.
In fact, he had long prepared for this day. If she hadn't come looking for him, he would have sought her out himself.
