Probably still on the phone, there was no immediate reply from the other end.

She stared at it for two seconds.

Evan Carter suddenly realized a problem.

Even if Ryan Grant really blocked her.

But her Moments.

Did not.

Block.

Ryan Grant.

"……"

With this thought, Evan Carter immediately opened her own Moments.

There had been too much going on lately; her last post was over two months ago. At that time, she was still in Yihe City, and it seemed to be a group post with colleagues at a lounge bar.

Evan Carter's gaze froze.

What appeared before her eyes was a selfie with her former colleagues.

The others in the photo were showing their teeth, smiling brightly, striking various poses. Evan Carter sat in the lower left corner, her skin so fair it looked overexposed, simply gazing gently at the camera, her lips curved in a faint arc.

Her features were extremely clear.

……

The line gradually moved into the restroom, and just as a few people exited the stalls at the same time, it was her turn. Evan Carter snapped back to reality, put her phone back in her pocket, and walked inside.

A moment later, Evan Carter walked out.

The sink area was unisex, located between the men's and women's restrooms, about two or three meters wide.

Evan Carter turned on the faucet, her mind a bit of a mess.

So back at the bar, he was just pretending not to know her.

The group holiday greeting was also deliberately not sent to her.

His first reaction to her message was to snap back.

Evan Carter looked up, and through the mirror in front of her, she could see Ryan Grant still standing in his original spot. He seemed to have finished his call, one hand in his pocket, the other fiddling with his phone.

She didn't know if he had replied to her message.

The next moment, Evan Carter saw Olivia Grant also come out of the restroom and walk to the sink next to her. But the faucet might have been broken; no water came out when she turned it on.

Evan Carter had just finished, so she made room: "You can use this one."

Olivia Grant immediately said, "Thank you."

When their eyes met, she seemed a bit stunned.

Evan Carter didn't notice, looked away, took out her phone as she walked out. She lit up the screen; the interface was still on the chat window with Ryan Grant.

This time, he hadn't even spared her a single punctuation mark.

Evan Carter understood the reason, fell silent for a while, and couldn't help but type in the chat box: "Maybe we should just delete each other."

She quickly deleted it.

Catching a glimpse of the two question marks they had just exchanged, Evan Carter paused, suddenly feeling that this chat history was full of gunpowder, as if saying, "Are you the only damn idiot who knows how to send question marks?"

But she didn't actually want to argue with him.

Evan Carter didn't want to have any unpleasantness during the holiday and was thinking about how to back down.

She typed a character.

[Then]

Staring at the question mark from Ryan Grant and the "happy" she had sent, she hesitated and continued typing.

[Not happy is fine too.]

"……"

After sending it successfully, Evan Carter found herself getting closer and closer to where Ryan Grant was standing. As they passed by each other at a distance, she lowered her head uncomfortably, catching a glimpse of him seemingly opening WeChat.

The man's long lashes drooped, staring at the screen.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but Evan Carter seemed to hear him let out a soft snort.

Her back stiffened.

She kept walking for quite a while.

Only after putting some distance between them did that inexplicable feeling of guilt finally fade. She looked at the screen again, and as she expected, there was still no reply.

She sighed, not having the energy to think about it anymore.

Feeling she'd been gone a bit too long, Evan Carter didn't dare to linger and quickly returned to the filming spot.

Not much had changed since she left.

The square was decorated, with colorful light strips wrapped around the plants and small structures, creating a festive atmosphere. People were coming and going, staff were maintaining order, and everyone looked cheerful.

All the preparations were complete, just waiting for the arrival of the new year.

William Harris and Henry Parker were chatting. Eric Foster stood next to them, listening very obediently without saying a word. When he saw Evan Carter return, he immediately approached her cautiously.

Eric Foster was a new intern hired two weeks ago, a senior in college this year. He didn't live up to his name—he was short and thin, like a bamboo pole. He had a baby face, but incongruously, a deep bass voice: "Sis, if you had come any later—"

Evan Carter thought something had happened: "What is it?"

Eric Foster said mournfully, "You might have only seen my frozen corpse."

"……" Evan Carter nodded, "Well, thank you then, I was just short of a story idea."

"In your eyes! I'm just a story idea!" Eric Foster accused her, shivering from the cold but still spirited, "Damn, I'm really fucking freezing, this wind is making my nose run."

Evan Carter looked at him.

Guys his age usually care more about style than warmth, and Eric Foster was no exception. He was only wearing a denim jacket, which did nothing to keep out the cold, and his lips were turning purple.

Plus, he was so thin, it looked like the sea breeze could blow him over at any moment.

"It's always colder by the sea. Next time you go out for news, wear more layers." As she spoke, Evan Carter took a hand warmer out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Put it in your pocket to warm your hands."