The night was unusually quiet, with a cool breeze coming through the window, gently brushing the strands of hair in front of her face.
Bai Chuwei's hand rested on the car window, her eyes twinkling slightly as she blinked and chuckled lightly, "Being my little brother also means being with our great ancestor, huh."
Duan Feihan's gaze deepened, and he said in a deep voice, "But I don't want to be your little brother."
Duan Feihan stretched out his long hand, took a bunch of red roses from the back of the car, and handed them to her.
Bai Chuwei leaned against the car window, a faint smile on her face, yet she didn't reach out to take them.
Bai Chuwei smoothed her wind-blown hair behind her ear and drawled in a lazy tone, "Duan Feihan, I have lived for many years, far longer than you think. Many people have liked me, from monarchs to commoners. Now, I can hardly recall the names of those who pursued me."