I'm in Mota, and they all want me to confess my feelings!

Perhaps, like countless times before, he won't come.

She thought she had long since gotten used to it, that her heart had long since become numb, and that such waiting would no longer cause any ripples.

But why, in the depths of silence, does a faint glimmer of hope still flicker quietly?

Her heart should have been closed and frozen, and should no longer have any warmth left for such a promise.

Why can't I let go completely?

she does not know.

Or perhaps, she simply doesn't want to know.

The girl's feelings were very complicated.

"Sorry, I'm late."

The coffee shop door was pushed open, and the wind chimes tinkled softly, as if gently announcing his arrival.

Duanmu Yan walked up to Floro and sat down opposite her.

Floro didn't look up, but simply stirred the dark brown, bitter liquid in her glass gently—even though she hadn't added any sugar or milk. Through this action, she silently expressed her unspeakable emotions.

"You're late." The girl's voice was very soft, almost blending into the low-pitched music in the store.

Duanmu Yan touched his nose, his tone somewhat embarrassed: "Sorry, it's about work, so..."

Floro interrupted him: "I don't want to hear excuses."

Duanmu Yan was speechless for a moment, finally letting out a soft sigh: "I'm sorry, it's my fault. How about this, to express my apology, I'll treat you to dinner tomorrow, okay?"

Floro didn't speak, but just looked at him quietly, his eyes revealing no emotion.

"I heard there's a new barbecue restaurant that opened on Bank Street. Want to go try it out together?" he asked tentatively.

Floro frowned slightly, still silently watching him.

For some reason, that gaze—

It was as if Duanmu Yan had suddenly fallen into an ice cave, and even his breath caught in his throat.

“Well, if you don’t like barbecue, we can go get something else…” he added somewhat flusteredly, “like dessert? I know a bakery that makes really good cakes and pastries!”

Floro didn't reply, her gaze slowly shifting to the hazy coastline in the distance.

"A long time ago, at a concert, I met someone."

Her voice was very soft, as if it might dissipate in the wind at any moment.

“I once thought that no one in this world would truly understand my music.”

“My audience is always incredibly engaged, either frozen in place or trembling and swaying uncontrollably.”

"But he's different. He understands. Beneath those melodies of extreme fantasy, I want to convey the destruction and rebirth... He understands it all."

Duanmu Yan gazed silently at the girl's profile, remaining silent and simply listening.

Floro paused slightly at this point. Then, a very faint smile appeared on his lips.

Whether that smile held nostalgia or acceptance—he had no way of knowing.

Or...

What about resentment?

"After the performance, we had a very pleasant conversation."

"That night, he told me many things and taught me a lot. No matter how complicated my past was, he always encouraged me."

"I was almost ready to give up..."

"Do you understand that feeling? When you fall into a cold abyss, you sincerely believe, eagerly hope, and patiently stand in the dark night shrouded in despair, waiting for someone to pass by and take you away from that world submerged in despair."

"And he...did it."

This should have been a cherished memory.

But a hint of obscure emotion flickered in the girl's eyes.

“I consider him my only confidant, and I even fantasize that he will be sitting in the audience at every performance in the future.”

"After that, I waited for him for a long time and composed many songs for him by hand."

“Before each performance, I would look into the audience, hoping to see him again.”

"But……"

"I waited and waited, but he never appeared again."

"He's not coming."

"I only understood later..."

"He had long forgotten everything from that night—the resonance I cherished, the encounter I longed for, the response I anticipated—to him, it was nothing but a fleeting illusion."

"It turns out I never truly left that abyss."

"It was all just wishful thinking on my part."

She murmured softly, shifting her gaze to Duanmu Yan.

"I hate you."

Duanmu Yan: "..."

His scalp felt numb.

No wonder she's so bitter and resentful; she was not only deceived emotionally and physically, but she's also a womanizer.

Oh dear, what should I do?

Does this mean I really have to take the blame for that person?

The problem is, I didn't do anything.

“Um, Miss Floro,” Duanmu Yan swallowed hard, “so, do you hate ‘me’ or ‘him’?”

“Is there a difference?” Floro tilted his head and said matter-of-factly, “You two look so alike, like you were made from the same mold.”

“There’s a huge difference!” Duanmu Yan hurriedly explained, “You can’t just vent all your emotions on me because I look similar to him…”

What's the difference?

"I value commitment very much!"

"But weren't you late just now?"

"That was just an accident, and besides, I didn't break my promise," Duanmu Yan said earnestly. "That's the fundamental difference!"

“I don’t see any difference,” Floro replied casually. “Being late is often the beginning of breaking a promise.”

“You can’t say that…” Duanmu Yan shook his head and finally sighed, “Fine, if blaming me will make you feel better, I’ll accept it.”

Floro looked at him with interest: "You've learned quite quickly."

Duanmu Yan spread his hands and said helplessly, "I understand. When you encounter something like this, you need a trash can to vent your emotions."

"Oh, you think I'm being unreasonable?"

Tsk, this woman is such a hassle.

"No, I absolutely did not think that."

"I hope it's true." Floro rose gently and walked towards the door. "However, talking to you for a while has definitely made me feel better."

She paused slightly, turned back to look at Duanmu Yan, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"I am very satisfied with your performance."

"Remember to send me the location of that pastry shop."

She turned and pushed open the door, the wind chimes tinkling softly.

"Then, see you tomorrow."

Duanmu Yan: "..."

As Duanmu Yan watched Floro's receding figure, he pondered the convoluted conversation they had just had, and could only let out a helpless sigh.

"At least, there's been some progress, right?"

Book 1: Chapter 24 Floro: For Whom?

Duanmu Yan opened his eyes and stared blankly at the familiar ceiling.

"Another day of being treated like a beast of burden."

Although I no longer have to rush to the bank at the last minute like before, this job isn't necessarily much easier now.

—Especially dealing with that eccentric and resentful woman.

What's more troublesome is that she happens to have a face that looks so much like the man who deceived her feelings.

He sighed softly, rubbed his messy hair, and sat up from the bed.

The terminal screen glowed faintly in the dim room, with several unread messages lying there quietly—from Zanni.

I heard from my supervisor that you were transferred to another department to help out?

Hey, when are you coming back?

I'm working overtime alone, and there's no one to chat with. It's so boring.

Nier has such a hard life.

However, Duanmu Yan wasn't worried. Even without him, Zanni's abilities were more than enough to handle the work impeccably.

Of course, there are costs involved—

She will be much more tired than before.

After all, when he was around, he could share some of the burden with her. But now, she has to shoulder everything alone.

What? You've missed me already after only a few days?

Don't worry, they'll be back soon.

Besides Zanni's message, there were also several unread messages from the Second Miss on the terminal.

The content consisted of nothing more than everyday greetings, spoken in a gentle tone, without even a hint of urging them to get back to work.

Sigh, who wouldn't like a boss like that—especially since she's a beautiful young woman?

"The time I agreed to meet with Floro is approaching."

"We can't be late today. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble she'll cause this time."

……

……

In the afternoon.

The streets of Laguna are bathed in gentle sea breezes and sunshine.

Occasionally, the faint aroma of sea salt and coffee wafts by, as if the whole city is immersed in a leisurely atmosphere.

Duanmu Yan arrived at the pastry shop where he had arranged to meet Floro. This shop not only served the most authentic traditional pastries from Laguna, but also gathered specialty pastries from various city-states.

Even more surprisingly—

He actually saw sugar-free white bread rolls from Huanglong, which are commonly known as steamed buns.

Seeing this little thing in a dessert shop like this made Duanmu Yan feel a little dazed, as if he had unexpectedly met an old friend in a foreign land.

He pushed open the shop door and stepped inside. Immediately, a sweet aroma filled his nostrils, which made him feel much more relaxed.

"Um...excuse me...could you make it a little cheaper?"

"I didn't bring enough money today."

"We really can't lower the price any further; this is already at cost. If we lower it any more, we'll lose money. Miss Priest, if it's really not possible... please come back another time."

Just as Duanmu Yan was about to find a seat, his gaze was drawn to a familiar figure in front of the counter—it was Phoebe, who was whispering to the owner with her head slightly lowered.

Phoebe?