Looking at the wrinkled bouquet of flowers in front of her, Zhao Yingjun blinked, somewhat caught off guard.
But then...
She let out a soft laugh, her gaze instantly softening considerably as she took the disheveled bouquet into her hands:
"This really is a surprise."
Zhao Yingjun looked at the damaged roses with interest, laughing as she lifted and pressed them one by one with her hands, arranging all the petals into a beautiful solitary form.
This was a relaxed smile Lin Xian had never seen before.
She was always so busy,
always furrowing her brows,
always pondering one thing or another.
She was like a robot.
Systematic and never making mistakes.
But Zhao Yingjun at this moment...
was indeed very pretty, laughing like a 24-year-old woman.
Another breeze blew by, swaying her shoulder-length hair and setting the crystalline blue earrings sparkling in the moonlight, shattered like a river of stars.
