The apartment was utterly silent.
Soft light spilled across the wool carpet, and the air carried a faint woody fragrance.
Mo Xiangwan swallowed as she looked at the downcast Su Yu, an inexplicable tightness gripping her heart.
"Xiao Yu, don't overthink things. I think you're just being too sensitive."
She paused, then added, "You don't need to worry about gaining and losing. Since Tang Song has already taken the initiative to join the event, there won't be any unexpected changes. On December 25, he'll definitely appear before you and celebrate your birthday with you."
She knew very well that Su Yu had psychological issues.
She was worried that Su Yu might do something impulsive again because of such baseless speculation.
"I know. That's not what I'm worried about." Su Yu shook her head, her slender fingers unconsciously brushing over the strings.
Mo Xiangwan was silent for a long while before saying softly, "Ms. Ouyang is close to you in private, and she thinks highly of you too. I think she'll definitely consider your position and feelings."
Su Yu slowly raised her head, a hint of deep meaning in her gaze. "Those things don't conflict, do they?"
Mo Xiangwan pursed her lips and ultimately said nothing more.
Su Yu rose to her feet and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
The night breeze stirred the sheer curtains, gently lifting her seaweed-like long hair.
Looking down at the countless lights below, her expression gradually calmed.
Of course, she wasn't "overthinking."
This intuition was a conclusion built upon observation and deduction.
Over the years, she had already dissected the behavior, habits, and words of every woman around Tang Song.
As though they were character scripts.
For example, Liu Qingning. If she wanted to, she could portray more than eighty percent of Liu Qingning's likeness