Han Muxue refused to take Shen Mochen back to her house, and Shen Mochen didn't insist either. Sensitive people always have all sorts of hard-to-guess thoughts.
Shen Mochen observed the surrounding environment. The narrow alley, the haphazard arrangement of electrical wires, and there was but one bright streetlight at the end of the alley. Faint voices could be heard from within the alley, and the scent of cooking lingered in the air.
He thought about Han Muxue's matters but for a moment became somewhat distracted and lost in thought, emotions surging to the surface. It had been a long time since he had encountered this scent of life.
Her going home like that, maybe it's for the best. Shen Mochen mused as he walked to the end of the alley and took a taxi back.
But is it really for the best? Shen Mochen suddenly remembered the sight of Han Muxue's departing figure.
