Qiao Li felt a pang of self-consciousness about her lack of romanticism. Even in this setting, she couldn’t fully lose herself in the moment. The colorful fireworks illuminated her face in flickering light. She quietly watched, not jumping and laughing like the others, yet more captivating than the starry sky itself.

Feng Yi suddenly leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Qiao Li blinked, shifting her gaze from the fireworks to Feng Yi’s face. Seeing his expression of guilt and conflict, she burst out laughing. “I thought I was the only one not paying attention.”

Feng Yi tried to speak, searching for the right words. A melancholic air hung about him, unusual for his normally bright personality.

Qiao Li’s laughter subsided. She reached out and ruffled his hair. Caught off guard, he instinctively ducked down. She then gently squeezed his ear. His furrowed brow smoothed, and the tension around his mouth eased.

“It’s my fault,” she said, perceptive enough to understand what troubled him.

Two not-so-romantic people ignored the dazzling display, locking eyes amidst the surrounding noise.

“My feet hurt,” she said, releasing his now-warm earlobe.

Feng Yi’s relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced by a renewed wave of guilt.

Qiao Li smiled ruefully. “Aren't you going to rescue my feet?”

Feng Yi looked confused. “Carry you?”

“The shoes?”

“Huh?” He straightened up like a startled cat. “You… you want the shoes?” The shoes he’d carried all day, searching for a chance to discreetly discard?

As the fireworks ended and the crowd lingered, they were the only ones at the edge who quickly moved away.

Feng Yi awkwardly avoided pulling out the shoes, as if by not revealing them, he could keep his childish blunder hidden.

Qiao Li took the bag from behind him. He didn’t resist.

She placed the Donald Duck shoes on the ground. As she reached to remove her heels, Feng Yi quickly steadied her. His grip was firm and warm. The simple act of changing shoes seemed as precarious as tightrope walking to him, terrified she might fall.

Qiao Li couldn't believe she was actually wearing these shoes. As she slipped them on, she felt her balance shift. They were so soft, like cotton, it was hard to find any support.

She took a step, almost tripping over the oversized shoe tops.

Feng Yi’s eyebrows, furrowed since she’d taken the bag, became even more tangled. The sight of her in those shoes was jarring, more incongruous than a tough guy wearing nail polish.

He realized how foolish he’d been, but Qiao Li didn't react with the disgust or anger he’d anticipated. Instead, she took a few bouncy steps, like a little girl, and burst into laughter, unrestrained and genuine. “They’re so soft and without heels, it’s like walking on clouds! I’m going to fall backward!”

If her usual beauty was ethereal and untouchable, devoid of earthly concerns, then in this moment, she was truly free. The ingrained composure melted away, revealing her true self. Paired with her captivating features, the effect could only be described as innocently mischievous.

Her laughter subsided. She looked at Feng Yi. “So stupid.”

Feng Yi stared at her, speechless.

“But I love them.”

She awkwardly shuffled towards him in the oversized canvas shoes and suddenly pinched his cheeks, squeezing his mouth into an “o” shape.

“I really love them. Thank you. You’re the first person who’s ever made me take off my heels.”