C379 Passing by

Zuo Wei held her hand. In her sleeve, her hand wouldn't be cold. She walked up to a green painted iron railing, and Zuo Wei half sat with her on it.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, burning in the night. Holding the cigarette in one hand, one hand reaching for the nape of her neck, pinching the thin back of her neck between thumb and forefinger, he asked her