Ning Yi slowly lowered his hand and began wiping off Feng Zhiwei's disguise.
His eyes could not see, but the face still filled his mind as clear as day. She was as she had been in that cold lake, and that familiar tallow mask slowly gave way bit by bit, revealing a spotless white brow and lustrous nose and pinky lips. The dark, elegant feathers of her proud brows arced above her closed, misty eyes… those eyes, always carrying that glistening, glittering veil, that impenetrable guard.
