the bowl.

Phoebe glanced at her cell phone screen and turned it over, placing it face down on the table. She looked down and went on with the noodles, but it seemed that the clear soup wasn’t satisfying enough, and she added more chili peppers to The red chili oil floated to the noodles, fiery and bright.

Evan caught a glimpse of her fair face and her lips, now reddened from the spice, and felt an inexplicable stir in his heart. He cleared his throat and asked, “Aren’t you afraid of the heat?” “Spicy is the way I like it.”

After Phoebe spoke, as if something came to mind, she fell into reminiscence. “There’s also a noodle restaurant outside Harvard University, their chili oil is especially delicious. Back when I was studying there, that restaurant almost monopolized my breakfasts and late-night snacks.”

Evan laughed and said, “Sounds good.”

“We can go there for a visit sometime,” Phoebe said, stuffing another mouthful of noodles and finishing off a bowl of wontons, eating so vigorously that she was covered in sweat. Having broken out in a sweat, her mood seemed to lighten considerably.

She stood up to pay the bill, while Evan leisurely finished every last drop of his soup. Side by side, they walked back.

As they approached the neighborhood, Phoebe’s steps slowed; she was reluctant to go home.

Her hands tucked into her coat pockets, she looked at the towering buildings ahead and was just about to speak when Evan took the initiative, “You’re not in a hurry to go back, are you?” Without checking the time, Phoebe knew it was already late, but she didn’t want to go home.

She didn’t want to see Theodore or Vanessa.

If possible, she wished time could stop at this moment and never move forward again.

Seeing her hesitation, Evan could guess what was on her mind and said, “Come on, let me take you somewhere.”

With that, he tugged at her arm and then released it, heading straight for the pedestrian overpass.

Phoebe hesitated for a few seconds before following Evan onto the bridge.

She wasn’t afraid of Evan, after all, people with nothing to lose are afraid of nothing, and Evan, being a star and an icon, had more concerns than she did.

In contrast, Evan might even be afraid of her blowing the whistle on their late night rendezvous.

Shortly after crossing the overpass, they turned into a small street and after about fifty meters, arrived at a house.

Evan rang the doorbell, and soon someone came to open the door.

When the door opened, Phoebe saw the punk attire of the person, reminiscent of a musician. Evan introduced them, “This is my friend Justin, and this is Phoebe.” They shook hands, and the friend warmly welcomed them inside.

Evan said, “Go on with your business, just leave us alone, I’ll take her to the studio for a while.”

Justin then did leave them alone and went into a music production room and never came back out.

“Come on, let’s go to the studio.” Evan led Phoebe towards the recording studio.

Phoebe looked around the courtyard as she walked, the outside looked plain and boring, but inside there was something unique, and it was decorated in a rather artistic way.

Arriving at the recording studio, Evan turned on the sound equipment and handed Phoebe a pair of earphones, “Come on, let’s sing along!

“Phoebe was amused by his casual tone, “People who didn’t know better would think we hadn’t eaten noodles just now, but stimulants.”

Evan winked at her, “If you’re feeling shy, you can pretend I don’t exist.”

Back in her college days, Phoebe often went to KTV with her roommates to sing. They were all on the same level, howling like ghosts and wolves. Now, facing Evan, the prince of love songs, she felt quite embarrassed. “Please be forgiving if my singing isn’t very good.”

Knowing she wasn’t in high spirits, Evan picked a playlist full of pure screaming and venting songs; he was prepared for Phoebe’s cacophonous singing.

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