Crossroads

Chapter 285

The night market at Tempa Street was alive with illuminated shops and eateries, adorned with vintage–style billboards overhead. This area was a hub of street food stalls, each manned by local expert chefs with stir–fried seafood in large woks.

Despite the chilly winter streets, the atmosphere remained vibrant. Neon lights twinkled brightly around the bustling streets, where crowds moved about, enveloped in the fragrant aromas of sizzling dishes.

Stephanie wandered through the scene, curiosity evident in her gaze.

Perhaps due to her striking appearance or unconventional attire tonight, she caught the eye of diners at several food stalls, who openly praised her as she passed.

*Beautiful, are you interested in trying our signature set meal! I guarantee you’ll find it delightfull” Suddenly, a jovial food stall owner beside her called out in the local language of Harlington.

Stephanie halted, turning to look at him.

Seeing the middle–aged, plump owner’s friendly smile, even though she didn’t understand his words, she knew well–fed chefs usually cooked well.

Hence, she nodded.

The tables and chairs of the street stalls were open–air, contrasting sharply with the refined formality of five–star hotels. Here, one could feel entirely at ease.

savored their meals under the glow of flickering neon lights. At one corner table, several men were engrossed in conversation, their boisterous laughter punctuating the

them for a moment until they turned to glance back at her. Feeling self–conscious, she quickly averted

you ever eaten at

Kai, approached with a menu in band.

and up to standard. But if you’re looking for a five–star hotel experience, that’s not what we offer. Life is about

a twinge of embarrassment at

the nuances of the language, but she could infer from

after leaving Reed Villa when

a sudden realization that Dominick and his circle would never dine so openly and casually. Even his smiles were sparingly shared in

widened slightly, betraying a hint

a demeanor accustomed to eccentric customers, Look smiled gently and gestured toward the men’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders. “Are you here with your boyfriend?” He held up

the men’s jacket she had borrowed from

initially worried about the language barrier and communication problems between them. Tempa Street in Harlington was renowned for its vibrant night market, often attracting foreigners, so Loak was eager to

the air. “No worries, having

couldn’t help but smile in response. Loak blushed