In early spring, River City was gradually shedding its chill, and the breeze already carried a hint of warmth.
That morning, Su Bai received a call from Xia Lin.
The beautiful counselor had finally finished her New Year holiday at her family home in Shanghai and flown back to River City.
Xia Lin possessed the gentleness and composure of a Young Lady deep in her bones, yet this wealthy, beautiful counselor who ought to have seemed distant treated Su Bai exceptionally differently.
It was hard to say whether Xia Lin's favoritism toward Su Bai came from reason or physical attraction. In any case, it was fate.
Over the phone, Xia Lin's voice was gentle as water, carrying a trace of longing she could not hide.
She suggested having dinner together that evening, saying she had recently discovered a hidden little Italian restaurant in a plane-tree alley in River City. Its chef was a genuine Italian.
Su Bai did not know much about Italian cuisine.
But since it was Xia Lin's invitation, he gladly agreed. He could also see how an authentic Italian chef baked pizza.
Toward evening, Su Bai drove to the location Xia Lin had sent him.
It was a home-style Italian restaurant with an exceedingly understated sign.
The moment he pushed open the vintage wooden door, warm yellow lighting and the rich scent of wheat greeted him.
Xia Lin was already seated at the bar near the open kitchen.
As Su Bai approached, a flash of amazement and heat involuntarily passed through his eyes.
Today, Xia Lin was not dressed in her usual dignified school attire. Instead, she wore a fitted beige cropped knit sweater.
Her gentle, elegant oval face bore light makeup, and every smile and frown spoke of refinement.
But the most fatal part was her