Chen Wei had just stepped over the tavern's threshold when the biting cold wind, carrying snowflakes, struck him full in the face.
He looked up to see his younger sister, Chen Ling, standing prettily beside the carriage, draped in an expensive fox-fur cloak.
Her little face was reddened from the cold, and she was frowning delicately as she looked at the bustling tavern with undisguised distaste.
"Brother! What are you doing in a place like this?" Chen Ling lightly waved a hand before her nose,
as though the air were filled not with the enticing fragrance of meat, but with some foul stench.
A trace of helplessness appeared on Chen Wei's face. Just as he was about to explain, Fang Yuan emerged from the tavern as well, leading Little Bean Sprout by the hand.
Chen Ling's gaze instantly passed over her brother and landed on Fang Yuan.
When she recognized him, her eyes, which had held nothing but contempt moments ago, suddenly narrowed.
An exceedingly complicated emotion flashed through them—surprise, old resentment, and perhaps even a flutter of feeling blurred by time, one she herself had never noticed.
She looked at Fang Yuan, but he seemed not to have seen her at all, his expression calm and unruffled.
Holding the little girl's hand, he walked steadily past her, without even letting the corner of his eye linger on her for an instant.
Such utter disregard was harder for the proud Chen Ling to endure than any mockery.
Remembering her family elders' scorn for Fang Yuan's "cheating," and the shame brought on by the faint, ignorant affection she had once felt for him,
a nameless flame surged up within her. Unable to restrain herself, she muttered behind him. Her voice was not loud, yet it was just enough for Fang Yuan,