Qiu Yi replied after a long pause, lowering her head. “I only met her once when she introduced her shop’s cakes to me and left her number. She seemed fine, with a very nice smile…”
Situ Ying Feng listened intently, imagining his sister’s smile. He secretly resented that she was so friendly with a stranger yet hadn’t returned home. This little girl needed discipline—when he found her, should he lecture her or warn her?
Meanwhile, Qi Feng searched all the cake shops near the company but found no one resembling his Feng’er. He was certain there was no one.
No matter what Feng’er had become, he believed he would recognize her. But what if it wasn’t her? If it really wasn’t her, then where had Feng’er gone?
Qi Feng sat on the street, engulfed by the flowing crowd. He held his head, unable to hear or see anything. Where are you, my Feng’er?
The water stains on the ground grew larger, revealing his vulnerability. The subordinates behind him turned away, unable to bear watching the usually stoic second young master of the Si Tu family in such a fragile state.
Qi Feng had indeed gone to Ru Feng’s shop, but Ru Feng was not there. She was at her mother’s grave with her father for the death anniversary. Si Tu Ying Feng didn’t think about it because it wasn’t his mother; Qi Feng didn’t think about it because the sudden news about Ru Feng had disrupted his mood.
But there was one person who remembered: Ning Yuan.
Every year, he accompanied Ru Feng to her mother’s grave, placing a bouquet of flowers and chatting for a while. She would link arms with him, speaking with pride, “Mom, Brother Ning Yuan is here with me. He treats Feng’er very well. You must like him too, right?”
He missed Ru Feng terribly and longed to see her smile. He thought if they met, he could express that even if they couldn’t be lovers, they could still be friends. Since he visited Auntie every year, he felt he should continue.
With that thought, he went to the cemetery, having waited since dawn. He was certain she would come.
