The city's lights remain dazzling, but unfortunately, they can no longer reach the depths of Bei Lingfeng's heart.
He sat alone in the private room of Jinding Hotel, forlornly smoking a cigarette, gazing at the endless stream of cars outside, just as he did the year before he broke up with Shu Jiaojiao, melancholically blowing smoke rings while waiting for Shu Jiaojiao, who might never show up.
This feeling, empty and hollow, like autumn leaves drifting in the wind, without any support, yet pessimistically choosing self-exile, allowing oneself to drift away with the wind, aimless and without a hint of interest.
He took another drag from the cigarette in his hand, staring unblinkingly out the window until his body grew numb from sitting, and then Tong Xinyao finally arrived.
