CHAPTER 1009: CHAPTER 756: BO ZHI 7_2

There are also some who are slow to react, unable to keep up.

Listening more, speaking less.

It’s just that memories are tugged apart by the woman’s singing on stage, and then they rush out eagerly.

He paused, staring at that face, deep in memory, slightly blurred, yet extremely vivid and clear.

Equally exquisite and striking, the only difference was a few years ago, it was youthful and vibrant, now it’s cold and captivating.

Seeing Bo Zhi staring at the woman on stage for quite a while without speaking, someone nudged the cup in front of him, "Dean Bo, you wouldn’t be interested in her, would you?"

"What are you saying? Although the girl on stage sings well, it’s not enough to become Dean Bo’s beloved, right?"

"Exactly, a girl like that wouldn’t be Bo Zhi’s type."

Upon hearing this, Bo Zhi barely visibly raised an eyebrow and smiled, "What is my type like?"

A friend laughed and said, "Of course, gentle and virtuous, knowledgeable and sensible, stunningly beautiful. The girl on stage, although beautiful, doesn’t quite suit you."

Bo Zhi did not respond.

Someone said, "Actually, back when we were studying for our Ph.D., that person in our class named Zuo Xuan wasn’t a good match for you?

With a matching family background and outstanding talent, a perfect match."

"Ah, Zuo Xuan, I remember now. I even bumped into her before. She’s at the hospital now and asked about you."

Bo Zhi casually curled his lips, "Do the matches you find for me actually exist?"

"What do you mean?"

...

Leaving Cappuccino, it was already midnight. His friend offered to drive Bo Zhi back, but Bo Zhi refused.

Being someone who adhered to rules, he also didn’t advise them to drink and drive. The few waved their hands, indicating they knew and called for a designated driver instead.

The place where Bo Zhi lived wasn’t far from there, so there was no need to see him off.

He said goodbye to his friend and then turned to walk home. The breeze brushed his face, and a subtle fragrance drifted by, causing him to lift his eyes.

Three meters away, the singer who had been on stage was standing in the cold wind with a simple canvas bag, rummaging through it while uttering a few harsh words.

His brow slightly furrowed, feeling the scent in the air grow even more intense.

He saw her give the bag a rough yank, causing it to slip from her shoulder with a clatter, scattering its jumbled contents on the ground.

A lipstick rolled to his feet.

The girl crouched down, sullen-faced, and began picking up the items from the ground, then looked up as she saw him standing with a lipstick in his hand.

"Thank you."

She raised her eyes, and their gazes met.

In an instant, the girl withdrew her gaze and turned to leave.

Staring at her retreating back as if fleeing, Bo Zhi chuckled softly;

Time is a wonderful thing; as it passes, it can bury the foolishness we once committed.

The losses we suffered and the foolish mistakes we endured.

...

In the old residential area, the staircase was pitch dark, Mou Wen clutched her phone to turn on the flashlight, illuminating the narrow stairwell.

Occasionally, the unpleasant stench of urine lingered.

Repulsed by this monotonous life, yet powerless to change it.

Society had molded her into working tirelessly for a living, for her little plot of land.

It seemed as if the outstanding lady she once was, her excellent past, had nothing to do with her anymore, drifting far away.

Once...

Hmph, what once.

She fumbled for the keys to open the door, and before she could change her shoes, a small figure rushed up to hug her leg.

"Mom."

Her cold, pale face warmed slightly, and Mou Wen crouched down to kiss the child’s face, "Did you miss mom?"

"I did."

Mou Wen picked him up and walked into the room, "Why aren’t you asleep yet?"

The child, not yet two, spoke fairly clearly but wasn’t fond of talking. Mou Wen didn’t feel comfortable leaving him home alone usually.

The nanny was there to look after him, but at this late hour, the nanny was surely asleep as well.

The child’s hands circled her neck, his small head resting in her collarbone, "Sleep with mom."

"But mom comes home very late. If you wait for mom, you won’t sleep well."

The child said nothing, being stubborn.

On weekdays, whatever Mou Wen said, if he found it acceptable, he listened; if not, no matter how much Mou Wen instructed, he wouldn’t comply.

Working during the day and part-time at night, Mou Wen was utterly exhausted, but every time she saw the child, all her fatigue seemed so much lighter.

She could catch her breath.

After washing up and taking her son to bed, Mou Wen cradled him in her arms, gently coaxing him.

The child soon fell asleep in her embrace.