Chapter 2277 - 729: Prose Poetry_4

Zhang Yan cradled a cup of honey pomelo tea, head bowed as she flipped through the old books Lin Feifei had collected, her cheeks glowing with an adorable flush in the warmth of the heater;

Lin Feifei hugged that wooden guitar, plucking the strings as she softly sang the folk song she’d loved most back in college;

Cheng Xiaoyue leaned back in the beanbag chair, humming along while filming the cozy scene with her phone.

In that moment, it was as if they’d slipped back into those carefree university days.

End of Song.

Lin Feifei set the guitar down and joked, "Yanyan, you’re really just the same—you get so absorbed listening, but you never sing along."

Zhang Yan’s face went red as she murmured a defense, "I-I don’t sing well..."

"Hey, it’s already eight-thirty." Cheng Xiaoyue glanced at the time, blatant gossip written all over her face. "Yanyan, that ’gentleman’ of yours—why isn’t he here yet? If he doesn’t show up soon, we’re going to run off with you."

Zhang Yan blurted, "He said he’d be busy until nine, that he only finishes work then."

"Oh—so nine it is." Lin Feifei dragged out the words. "Then for a certain someone here, this last half hour is basically stretching into eternity."

The two of them exchanged a look and couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

Of course, beneath the excitement, a faint worry was also rising in their hearts.

They knew Zhang Yan far too well—they knew the rough patches of her life since childhood, and they knew how introverted she was, how bad she was at turning people down.

A girl whose feelings were as pure as a blank sheet of paper was just too easy to fool in a complicated society like this, especially by those men with bad intentions.

For someone to put on such a grand show—was it sincere or just for show, who could really say?

Once they met him later, they absolutely had to question him properly, at least to help vet this guy for their friend.

"The snow’s coming down harder again!"

Lin Feifei’s gaze swung toward the window. She put down the guitar and ran excitedly out to the terrace.

She grabbed a handful of the freshly fallen, soft white snow from the railing, turned back, and with a mischievous grin hurled it at Cheng Xiaoyue.

"Ah! Lin Feifei, you sneak-attacked me!" Cheng Xiaoyue let out a sharp shriek as the snowball exploded against her, the cold shock making her shiver. She immediately bolted outside too, joining the battle.

Snowballs flew, laughter and screams overlapped and rose again and again, and in no time the crossfire extended to the innocent Zhang Yan.

"Hey! Cut it out! Hey..."

Her face flushed, she frantically covered her hair, dodging left and right in the little loft.

But she still couldn’t escape—cornered by her two wicked friends, with snow crystals clinging to her hair and the front of her coat.

Just then.

Cheng Xiaoyue, who was clutching a big snowball and gearing up for a final assault, suddenly froze mid-motion.

She leaned half her body out over the railing, looking toward the east side of the street. A beat later, her voice jumped several notes as she cried out, "Rolls-Royce! Another Rolls-Royce Phantom?"

At those words, the playful racket from Zhang Yan and Lin Feifei cut off abruptly.

They almost lunged to the edge of the terrace at the same time, following the direction of Cheng Xiaoyue’s pointing finger.

The bright headlights sliced through the swirling snow, as a grand, imposing black sedan slowly approached.

"I can’t make out the plate—is it the same car as before?" Lin Feifei’s eyes were wide.

"No idea, but it looks like it... A car like that, you maybe see it a few times a year at most."

"Yanyan, didn’t you say... he wouldn’t be here until nine?"

Zhang Yan was completely stunned. She leaned out too, staring unblinkingly at the Rolls-Royce that was getting closer and closer, her heart pounding up into her throat.

Is it him? Did he come early?

Under the three of their gazes, the car finally eased to a stop in a parking space by the curb.

Zhang Yan could no longer hear her girlfriends’ exclamations.

In her eyes and in her heart, there was only that car below, glimmering under the streetlamp and the snowlight.

Next, the driver’s door pushed open.

The tall, lithe Liu Jiayi stepped out.

She quickly circled to the back, pulling open that emblematic rear-hinged door.

Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei stared, eyes stretched wide, fixing their gaze on that car door so hard they forgot to breathe.

Here he comes, here he comes—finally, he’s here!

"Pop—" The black ten-rib umbrella snapped open, shielding out the falling snow—and also cutting off the view from the terrace.

The next second, a pair of polished brown leather shoes stepped down into the snow.

Following them were long legs clad in close-fitting dark gray suit trousers.

The edge of the umbrella drooped, hiding his face, but it couldn’t hide that innate, aristocratic air that radiated from him.

Liu Jiayi stood respectfully to one side, saying something softly. He gave a slight nod.

That upright frame, that graceful bearing, were enough to send the imagination wandering.

The car door closed.

Two parallel tracks of footprints stood out clearly in the snow.

Their gazes followed that mysterious black umbrella as it moved, all the way to the front of the flower shop downstairs.

Because their line of sight was blocked, they never once managed to see the man’s face.

Cheng Xiaoyue’s face was flushed from holding back. At last she couldn’t take it anymore—she drew in a deep breath and yelled down, "Zhang Yan’s up here—!"

Below, the black umbrella paused slightly, then lifted and angled away.

The person beneath it finally emerged fully into the snowlit glow of the night.

He wore a dark cashmere double-breasted suit coat, under which a black turtleneck of fine knit peeked out.

Dark, deep eyes glinted with shifting light.

His skin, under the warm yellow halo of the streetlamp, took on a kind of cool-toned paleness.

His gaze cut through the wind and snow and met Zhang Yan’s up on the terrace.

A gentle smile appeared on his face.

"Zhang Yan."

All the snow swirling through the sky seemed to lose its luster in the warmth of his smile.

On the terrace, Zhang Yan bit her lower lip and waved hard at him. "Tang Song."