The class president suggested everyone offer a word of blessing. When it was Shanshan's turn, the room fell silent, waiting to hear her plans for the future.
As the dinner was winding down, a boy who had a crush on her for years stood up, pulled out flowers and a light-up sign, and confessed his feelings on the spot.
He looked down, straightened the hem of his clothes, and held a bouquet of pink roses in both hands. In his other hand, he held a glowing sign that read, "Shanshan, I like you."
The light reflected on his face, and tiny beads of sweat dotted his temples.
The people around them were stunned at first, then erupted into a chorus of jeers and catcalls. Some whistled, others banged on the table.
"Shanshan, I—"
"Shanshan!"
Ling Zhiwei burst in with a cold expression, his raised voice stunning everyone into silence.
He was wearing a dark gray overcoat, his shoulders dotted with mist from the rain outside.
