The night was quiet, and the breeze carried fine snow across the ground.
A man and a woman sat together in front of the bar, each holding a bottle of wine, sometimes frowning in thought, sometimes laughing heartily, occasionally raising the bottles to drink, reminiscing the past, and lamenting how time flies, no longer in their youth.
The two of them, as if old friends who have known each other for many years, were discussing past events that were never mentioned ordinarily in the icy and snowy night.
Xiao Feng smiled, looking at Han Lengyue, whose cheeks were flushed with wine. He truly did not expect that after drinking, Han Lengyue would become more talkative. Perhaps she was not inherently quiet but was using the wine as a means to release the words that had been suppressed for a long time.
"Do you believe in destiny?" Han Lengyue suddenly asked.
Xiao Feng lowered his gaze and, after a moment of thought, replied, "I believe, but I also don't."
