Xu Si paid no mind to the gazes of those around her and locked eyes with Pei Zhen, her heart skipping a beat.
The moment the man had taken the cigarette, she had faintly sensed that something was amiss. It was like a sudden bout of malaria—a trivial gesture from Pei Zhen could actually hold her emotions hostage. As fish swam through the crystal-clear pond, the transparent water itself seemed to become tainted. This was the first time Xu Si had experienced such a feeling, yet she couldn't afford to dwell on it.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, she did her best to steady her nerves, clutching her black, flowing coat as she descended the stairs, crossed the gravel path, and entered the teahouse.
Amidst the silent stares, she pulled out the chair next to Pei Zhen, took out a cigarette, lazily placed it between her lips, and lit it. She didn't put it in Pei Zhen's hand; she just let it burn, inhaling the bitter, acrid scent of the tobacco.
