Nine o'clock at night.
Xu Jingxi was at the ferry terminal on the wharf, idly smoking, staring unblinkingly at the outgoing ships docking.
Song Zhengqing felt that he was smoking too frequently tonight, though he couldn't say why.
Yet, it was this handsome and fair countenance that lent an air of indolence to his smoking, charming and attention-grabbing.
"Do you always smoke so incessantly when you're handling serious matters?"
His tone was quite indifferent, "Does it concern you?"
"..." Song Zhengqing watched the flame at his fingertips, "Smoking can't replace food, take care of your health."
He didn't engage further, resting his arms on the railing and playing with his lighter by himself.