Qinghe, walking alongside Weisheng Yueren, gazed calmly around the vast courtyard without a trace of deviation in her gaze. Even faced with such a marvel of beauty, she maintained her composure as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
Qinghe always felt a piercing gaze upon her from the shadows, without malice, yet observing, exploring. Her gaze shifted towards the source of her discomfort. Her eyes, not typical for her age, held a detached calmness, as well as a complexity buried deep within.
Such calm, joyless eyes—it was startling. She was an astutely observant child, giving the impression she could see right through one. Impossible, that couldn't be.
