Su Rong looked at Nangong Yu.
Nangong Yu, too, was looking at Su Rong.
Although the Nangong family had obtained a portrait of Su Rong and Nangong Yu had seen it, the real her was far more spectacular than the portrayal.
Su Rong was fifteen, turning sixteen after the new year, in the bloom of her youth. It could be said that it was a time when a young lady was at the peak of her beauty.
She was like a fresh and delicate blossom, radiant amid the winter's chill. Adorable and dazzling, she was undoubtedly a stunner.
Nangong Yu had seen countless beautiful women of all shapes and sizes, but he had never encountered anyone like Su Rong. Despite her delicate and tender appearance, she had a calm and unflappable demeanor. Even now, surrounded by thrice the number of assassins as her own party, her complexion remained unchanged.
She seemed unafraid.
