In the night, beams of headlights occasionally sliced through the darkness.
Snowflakes danced wildly in the light.
On the attic terrace, a brief silence fell, leaving only the rapid heartbeats of the three women.
Under the streetlamp, the woman's gaze pierced through the wind and snow, sweeping over their faces before settling precisely on Zhang Yan.
She gave a slight nod. On that stern face, there seemed to be the faintest trace of a smile.
Zhang Yan finally confirmed that she was Tang Song's driver.
Lin Feifei and Cheng Xiaoyue swallowed with difficulty.
As textbook artsy young women, they had watched countless movies and read countless novels.
But the scene before them—
A snowy night, a luxury car, a mysterious, stern woman, and a gift delivered specially for them.
It felt more unreal and more impactful than any fictional plot.
And all of it had happened to their most ordinary friend, Zhang Yan.
"Yanyan—" Cheng Xiaoyue's voice trembled. "That woman downstairs—she, she came to deliver something to you?"
"Mm."
Zhang Yan took a deep breath. The biting chill of the winter night did nothing to calm her down.
Instead, it stirred even greater waves in the sea already churning within her heart.
Tang Song—
Just because she had casually mentioned a link, he had actually sent the clothes over—
And he had even specially prepared medicine.
How could he be so good to me?
From childhood to adulthood, Zhang Yan's life had been like duckweed without roots.
Her parents' divorce, a childhood spent living under someone else's roof, moving again and again just to make ends meet—
She had never had a truly stable home. She had always been drifting, always trying hard to adapt to one new environment after another.
And through all those turbulent, bleak, uncertain years, the