Because what she cared about was the intention behind it.
Qian'er... you must... stay behind... don't run ahead of Miss...
The lady named Qing Jun sat slanted at the desk, her thoughts swirling and turning, full of tender sentiment.
A wooden hairpin held up her cloud-like hair, gathering thousands of strands of affection as she arranged her hair for her beloved, revealing the beautifully curved features of her oval face and the white neck like that of a swan, her eyes brimming with clarity and freshness.
At this moment, she was tilting her head, supporting her chin with a jade hand, gazing intently at the two love letters on the desk.
Lingfei quietly reached out, unable to resist opening that poem "Shang Ye." She squinted briefly at it and then gently closed it, fearing that looking any further would resonate emotionally, causing it to lose its spiritual energy.
Shortly after.
