Translator: 549690339
Although Bo Yan felt a slight reluctance, he quickly let go of her hand. Then, after a mont of thought, he stepped back, “Sorry, I just didn’t an to…”
Before he could finish, he saw a straggling roller-skater, seemingly trying to catch up, hurtling towards them at high speed. It looked like he was about to crash into Xia Siyu.
Bo Yan quickly reached out, this ti pulling her forcefully towards him.
Xia Siyu staggered a couple of steps, not expecting Bo Yan to act so swiftly, she uncontrollably crashed into his embrace.
After that, it was the boy whisking past close enough to ruffle her fluttering hair, along with a Sicilian “I’m sorry.”
If Bo Yan hadn’t pulled Xia Siyu back, she would have definitely collided with the boy.
However, neither Xia Siyu nor Bo Yan paid any attention to the departing youngster.
The sumr seaside breeze brought waves of coolness. Above them was a lting pool of moonlight. The Baroque-style buildings, so passed down from the dieval age, were covered with mottled walls. The street lamps resembled those of oil lamps, balconies were adorned with flowers, and the nearby citrus trees carried a drifting fragrance. Beneath their feet was a cobblestone path. Although there were voices, the place was not noisy; the unfamiliar tonal languages sounded especially warm and intimate.
They found themselves in the midst of a small town, alone, just the two of them. Because the filming crew had left, there were no microphones, no caras, no crowds of onlookers that are so common back ho.
In this mont, in this foreign land, on this deserted street, they were without their celebrity status, without fans, without a team, without a director – just two ordinary people.
Two ordinary young n and won embracing in the street.
Bo Yan was fine with this; his parents had passed away early, and he was raised by his grandparents. He was accustod to not showing his emotions; whatever he felt was buried deep in his heart to prevent others from snatching it away.
But Xia Siyu wasn’t soone to dilly-dally or drag her feet. If she liked him, she would pursue him; if she decided to leave, she would do so directly, cool and clear-cut. During the film shooting, she and Bo Yan had to play a loving couple, and she had to cast aside her personal feelings, forcing herself into the role. Entwined in love and hatred with him, advancing and retreating in their closeness. This wasn’t love; it was work, just like in her past films depicting romantic entanglents with other male actors, where after the director yelled “Cut!” the co-actor might not even dare to look into her eyes.
But Bo Yan was different. He was her ex-boyfriend, her husband, and the only man she had. Although she didn’t particularly treasure this, it was undeniable that Bo Yan had indeed left a vibrant mark in her life, a part of her growth that couldn’t be ignored.
During the day, her focus was on how to do her job well. The little ti that was left, she spent reminiscing about the past. Even the remaining corners were dedicated to trying to earn tips.
But now, there was no one else, no other work scene, just the two of them present.
Especially since last night, the two of them had a mix-up; he almost compromised his integrity, nearly getting into trouble because of her…
Xia Siyu seriously considered whether she should get a boyfriend. Not the kind she had been rumored to have over the years, but a real boyfriend. Otherwise, why would she feel a bit wild and distracted the mont Bo Yan embraced her?
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