I carefully start stacking the empty containers, locking each lid with precision, my hands moving almost mechanically.
I bow low, muttering, "Hope you all liked it. I'll take my leave now," and wave politely at Jiang. He just nods, no smile, no warmth—just a quiet acknowledgment that stings more than I expected.
Xing watches the exchange between us, her eyes darting back and forth, but I can't bring myself to explain or force a smile. Not here, not at his workplace, not when he's chosen to give me this cold shoulder.
I step out of the studio, bow politely again to anyone glancing my way, and the door clicks shut behind me.
Sighing, I make my way toward the elevator, the weight of disappointment pressing against my chest.
I guess this time, just food isn't enough to fix things—not that I expected it would be—but I didn't expect Jiang to be this distant either.
I step into the elevator alone, sinking onto the floor with my back against the metal wall, letting out a soft sigh.
