Yu Minglang wasn't someone who enjoyed listening to music, but on the way back, he still turned on the car stereo, played some soothing light music, turned off the air conditioning, and rolled down the windows to let the wind blow in.
The summer evening breeze was just right, not too hot, carrying a bit of coolness as it naturally brushed past. Why did this feeling remind him so much of Chen Xiaoqian?
Unpretentious and straightforward, if someone crossed her, she wouldn't accommodate them.
Perfectly refreshing, too much would be domineering, too little would be cowardice, no more, no less, just right.
Turns out, in this world, there really is a woman who is just right like this. Whatever she does, he feels inexplicably content watching her.
Yu Minglang's fingers tapped on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music, and when he passed the porridge shop where she once washed her hands, he suddenly hit the brakes.
