Being an artiste meant that Yu Zexiao took great care in grooming himself. His chin was void of even a hint of stubble. Above it were his thin, supple lips. Yu Zexiao's lips were beautifully shaped, maintaining a slight upward tilt at the corners when he was silent, as if they were lofty and proud, yet so tempting that one couldn't resist the urge to touch them. She had tasted those lips; despite the fact that his insults were particularly nasty and sometimes made her seethe with rage, whenever his tender lips kissed her, she would become so flustered that she stopped thinking, and her soul nearly soared away.
Above his straight, noble nose were his eyes. Long lashes fell like tiny fans, casting a soft shadow beneath his eyes. But beneath that subtle cover, his eyes appeared all the more clear, like stars fallen from the sky to the mortal realm. Slightly tousled hair dulled the arrogance and restlessness that clung to him, adding a touch of lazy allure.
