Zhou Shuchen stood two steps away from An Chuyu, waiting for her. He vaguely heard the tone of her voice as she spoke to someone else, not the polite, distant socialite's tone but one tinged with amusement—as if she was a bit helpless yet somewhat indulgent towards that person.
He believed the fact that she was married. But believing was one thing, accepting was another, and at least for now, he was unable to accept it calmly.
A gust of wind blew, causing Zhou Shuchen to squint, his gaze complex as he watched her retreating figure. She turned around, put away her phone, and walked up to him, her voice carrying an apology, "Sorry to keep you waiting. Someone is coming to pick me up shortly. Maybe you should go first."
Meeting him, An Chuyu switched back to that polite demeanor. Zhou Shuchen smiled bitterly.
"Your assistant is coming to pick you up?" He shouldn't have asked, but he couldn't help himself.