Ji Liangchuan step by step approached Fu Han, his face finally exposed under the moonlight, and in those large, exaggerated peach-blossom eyes was a brightness that could swallow a person whole.
Even if Fu Han's reaction was slow, she finally realized something was wrong. She stepped back, not noticing the steps behind her. Without care, she fell, letting out a cry that was neither light nor heavy.
Ji Liangchuan hurried forward two steps and bent down to offer a hand to Fu Han, "Xiaohan, are you alright?"
"Don't call me Xiaohan," Fu Han raised her voice sharply. Her hands were bracing against the icy Snowland as she attempted to rise, when suddenly, Ji Liangchuan's face loomed large in front of her.
A strong, uneasy premonition arose in Fu Han's heart. She wanted to back away but had nowhere to retreat to. Ji Liangchuan's nearby look was cold and frightening, mixed with desire, making his concerned expression particularly terrifying.
