She thought, there would always be a day like this.
Jing Qing was gone.
A few people stood in the airport lounge, watching the plane take off into the night sky, all silent.
"Let's go back, too!"
Jing Feng was the first to leave, driving away on his own.
Jiang Zhiyuan had come in the same car as Zhao Huai; the two of them lived in the same neighborhood.
But on the way back...
"How about I call my own ride back?"
Xiaomei stood to the side, glancing at Jiang Zhiyuan sitting in the passenger seat. Somehow, she felt like a third wheel, intruding on the private time of the two men.
"Does your arm not hurt anymore? You even have the energy to call for a cab?"
Zhao Huai grabbed her arm and walked her to the front, opening the passenger door and yanking the man who was about to buckle up out of the seat. In Jiang Zhiyuan's disbelief—his eyes practically popping out—Zhao Huai shoved Xiaomei into the passenger seat instead.
"What the hell!"
Jiang Zhiyuan glared at him in disdain.
