The girl, hearing that he didn't need it, extended her nervous little hand toward his chest.
She used the same strength as before when she was behind him, but now, facing him, she dared not look into his eyes. The cleaning became uneven, a bit hurried, and somewhat perfunctory, as if she wanted to get it over with quickly.
Ou Mucen saw this and looked down at her, discovering a face so tender it seemed as if it could drip water at a touch, with skin like milk, delicate and lustrous. Her eyes, which she kept lowered, hid her glazed-colored pupils under her eyelids. Her long eyelashes, hanging down, were as distinct as if painted on, thick and curling, like a doll's, extremely beautiful.
Ou Mucen felt a sudden stir in the depths of his heart, and his gaze, for some reason, settled on her slightly parted lips.
They were lusciously red, like perfectly ripe cherries, slightly quivering, looking irresistibly tempting...
...
