While Nan Xian was playing chess with the old man, Wei Zeling watched with her arms crossed.

She grew up in the United States and was influenced by the local culture and atmosphere. She is good at sports that are relatively newer and more fashionable, such as golf and tennis.

She had absolutely no interest in Chinese chess, and even looked down on it from the bottom of her heart—it's just a few wooden blocks with words carved on them, isn't it? It has neither aesthetic appeal nor innovation, and she really doesn't understand what's so admirable about it.

She doesn't understand chess, so naturally she can't understand the game.

She had seen the old man easily defeat others in just a few moves, so she naturally assumed that Nan Xian would also lose to him.

Looking at it now, the old man's moves were cautious and serious, while Nan Xian's moves seemed random and haphazard. Wei Zeling became even more certain of her guess—Nan Xian probably didn't know how to play chess at all, and this must be another persona she deliberately created in front of the camera!

Hmph, just wait and see her get slapped in the face!

She snorted inwardly, glanced at Nan Xian with disdain, and raised her chin smugly, as if she had won back the game.

Just then, she caught a glimpse of her assistant at the end of the path and gave a wink to the cameraman who was filming her.

The other party understood and moved the camera away.

Her assistant was a young man in his early twenties, not very tall, wearing thick glasses, and the kind of face that wouldn't get a second glance in a crowd.

He was carrying several bags and holding Wei Zeling's down jacket in his arms. He ran all the way here, and despite it being the dead of winter, he was sweating profusely.

Wei Zeling glanced at him, took the down jacket and put it on, threw the now-cold hand warmer into his arms, then picked an empty stone bench to sit on and started playing on her phone.

The assistant placed everything on the dry ground, squatted down, and took out several pairs of brand-new sneakers, placing them in front of her.

"Sis, I brought them all for you. Which pair would you like to exchange them for?" he asked in a low voice.

Wei Zeling lifted her eyelids slightly, and gently moved the pointed tip of her high heels to touch the leftmost pair.

He quickly and efficiently put away the other pairs of shoes, and then helped her take off her high heels.

It was cold, and most of her feet were exposed to the cold wind, causing her skin to turn slightly bluish-purple.

His gaze lingered for a moment, and he secretly glanced at her.

She was typing on her phone, looking very focused, and didn't notice his gaze.

He swallowed hard, pulled a soft, clean handkerchief from his pocket, and gently wrapped it around her frozen feet as if they were a precious treasure, then placed his palm on them.

Only then did Wei Zeling realize that warmth was spreading through the soles of her feet. She stopped typing, looked up, frowned, and pulled her foot away.

What are you doing?

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes. He lowered his head and stammered, "Your...your feet are so cold. I wanted to warm them up for you, so you could put on your shoes and feel more comfortable."

However, before he could finish explaining, the elderly men watching the game burst into good-natured laughter, which immediately drew Wei Zeling's attention.

Seeing the old man take out a brocade pouch and hand it to Nan Xian, her heart skipped a beat. She hurriedly put on her shoes, and as she stood up, she glared at him and whispered a reprimand: "Don't you know any manners! Don't do things you shouldn't do in the future!"

He slowly withdrew his hand, lowered his eyes, his drooping eyelashes concealing the emotions in his eyes, and responded softly, "Yes."

Wei Zeling ignored him and walked straight into the crowd.