The image flashed through her mind. The spirited youth atop a steed in the painting... Could it be…?
The sounds outside continued. There was now the sound of water and him washing his face, followed by the rustling of his clothes. He must be wiping his body too.
Nan Feng sat there, dazed. Whenever they kissed, he would always blindfold her. Was that to prevent her from seeing through him?
He seldom expressed emotions. His smile was always casual, his speech always nonchalant. When he occasionally laughed out loud, he would turn his back. Was it similar to a woman applying a face mask, unable to make exaggerated expressions?
And what about the warmth of his face?
The water sounds outside had ceased. They were replaced by the sound of him fetching water from the yard, followed by the closing of the door, and his approaching footsteps.
Nan Feng sat still, her hands clutching the bedsheet, her eyes blankly staring at the door.
