Long Que had heard people say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, a mirror that can reflect what's hidden beneath flesh and blood, revealing a person's past and present lives.
Just like the person in front of him.
The eyes are still the same as in the past, but the gaze is so unfamiliar.
The woman who had turned from the dust-covered café, her white hair billowing in the wind, her forehead hair messy over her deep, bewitchingly beautiful eyes, adorned with a touch of crimson at the corner of her eyes and brows, her face as alluring as a fairy from a fairy tale, possessed of a breathtaking beauty.
The graceful red dress danced in the wind, flame-like patterns flowed on her pale skin, it was the unquenchable fire eroding her immortal body.
She was like a phoenix undergoing nirvana, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.
So beautiful it was almost demonic.
She was also very beautiful back then, but it was more of a girl's innocence.
Eight years apart, but reborn.
