Cheng Yu leaned against the car, standing beside him for a while, then let out a long sigh. Song Li smoked in silence for a moment before turning to look at Cheng Yu, offering him a cigarette. Cheng Yu frowned and shook his head. Song Li, with a cigarette in his mouth, smiled, “What, can’t handle these regular cigarettes anymore?” Cheng Yu shot him a glance and gave a self-deprecating smile, “I’ve quit that stuff long ago. Overcorrected, now I rarely smoke.” But he took a cigarette from Song Li, lit it, and said, “What’s wrong with you today? Others drown their sorrows in drink; you seem to be venting your frustration with smoke.”
He chuckled mockingly, “Weren’t you quite the spirited one lately? The fast-rising son-in-law of the Zhang family, quite the big shot, huh?” Song Li silently blew a puff of smoke towards him, “Shut up!” Then he slowly continued, “How’s the investigation I asked you to do last time?” Cheng Yu, instead of answering, countered with a question, “Have you set a date for the wedding? When is it?” “The thirteenth, five days from now,” Song Li replied. Cheng Yu was visibly taken aback, “So soon?” Song Li gave a wry smile, “If we weren’t in a hurry, we would’ve just gotten married. Who bothers with an engagement? Is she that eager? She thinks by rushing into this, everything will be fine. But, what if we get married and then divorced?” Cheng Yu’s expression was hard to read, a slight sneer escaping him, “Liu Yi has plotted everything meticulously, never imagining you had no intention of marrying her at all!” Song Li responded calmly, “I’ve said it before, in this lifetime, I will only marry Tang Xiaofu and no one else!” His tone was light but carried the weight of absolute conviction.
