Maybe the atmosphere was too ambiguous, stirring confusion in one's mind. Or perhaps it was the pair of eyes before her that was too captivating.
Yao Qing gazed up at him somewhat spellbound, unable to speak for quite some time.
The angle at which she slightly tilted her head exposed her fair neck and the sight below it, her deep brown eyes were a blurry sight. Her crimson lips blossomed radiantly like a rose in early morning, she herself was a scenery.
Yu Yanshen looked down at her, the proximity enough to cause one's heart to flutter.
His gaze seemed to fall on her lips, growing ever deeper.
The directness of his stare made Yao Qing subconsciously bite her lip.
Someone had said before, the most beautiful moment for a woman, is when she bites her lip, demure yet restless.
The former incites a deep itch in one's bones, while the latter makes one's protective instincts for a woman surge.
Yao Qing's gesture was instinctive, but it made Yanshen's gaze grow even more intense.
