"Do you believe in fate?"
"Don't believe it."
Qiao Yi chuckled, "I don't believe it either."
Fang Qi didn't answer, but drank the last sip of beer with one hand on the ground. The wind on the riverbank was strong, blowing the tips of Qiao Yi's hair and hitting Fang Qi's arm.
"But meeting you is my fate."
Fang Qi whispered into Qiao Yi's ear, then stood up and walked up the stairs.
Qiao Yi pursed his lips, but couldn't stop smiling. He followed him and walked side by side, as if he wanted to go to the end of the night.