Bai Yue arrived at the café ten minutes early, heart fluttering. She chose the same corner table where Chen Jue had once shattered her almost-kiss dreams, ordered her usual overpriced matcha, and stared at the foam like it held answers.
Twenty minutes, she reminded herself. In and out. Whatever urgent "family stuff" he has to say about Han Shān, I listen, nod politely, and never speak of it again.
The bell above the door chimed. She looked up, smile already forming—
And froze.
Han Shān walked in.
Not Chen Jue.
Tall, immaculate in a charcoal suit, snow-white hair catching the afternoon light like it had been personally styled by winter itself. His eyes locked on her immediately, and her heart stuttered so hard she nearly dropped her glass.
Oh no. Ground, swallow me. Again.
He crossed the café in three strides, pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat.
