As he stepped out of the shadows, Su Zhinian's perfect face became increasingly noticeable. He didn't hurry to leave but stood quietly under the lonely street lamp. His gaze followed Qin Yinan's car until it disappeared into the traffic.
A light shower started to fall from the sky. It was not heavy; instead, it was small and loose like a woman's hair.
The rain wasn't heavy, but as he stood there, his dark hair eventually became wet and clung to his face.
Regardless, he still showed no intention of leaving. He had one of his hands in his pocket, and he stood there quietly, staring at the empty street as if he had all the time in the world to waste.
The rain started to fall in earnest. His presence that was clean, elegant, and cold was colored by the falling rain to gain a sense of melancholy. His white dress shirt was soaked, and the half-opaque fabric stuck to his skin.