A cunning glint flickered in Han Bi's eyes, but she hid it exceptionally well.
Wen Nuan asked, "Why don't you return it to him yourself? This is his possession; why ask me to deliver it?"
"I just happened to be downstairs and ran into you, so I thought I'd have you deliver it," Han Bi said. Even though Feimo didn't want this watch anymore, she wanted him to accept it. This watch represented all her feelings for him; he couldn't heartlessly discard it.
Wen Nuan closed the box, her expression unchanged. "I understand. I'll pass it on for you."
Han Bi smiled. "Thank you."
Wen Nuan's heart felt like a mischievous kitten was clawing at it with sharp little claws—a mix of pain and itchiness. The evening wind froze a layer of ice onto her face.
"Since there's nothing else, I'll be going. Miss Han, please take care."
"Wait," Han Bi called out, her purple scarf slowly lifting, elegant and beautiful. Han Bi smiled and asked, "Do you know the story behind this watch?"
