Xiao Jian took off his hat and nodded at them with a slight smile. He seemed very gentle and clean, and his features tended toward the delicate.
Yan Xiao was the complete opposite. Han Jiaojiao felt that he was like a mix of punk, retro, hippie, and modern runway model. A man with a ponytail was eye-catching enough, but he was even wearing knee-high studded leather boots—the studs weren't the kind with processed tips but were sharp and fierce!
Han Jiaojiao muttered to herself, "Doesn't he jab his hands when he puts those boots on?"
Regardless, Han Jiaojiao still greeted them politely.
"Hi, Yan Xiao, Hi, Xiao Jian, I'm Han Jiaojiao." Ah, this form of address really feels awkward.
Han Yi's face grew colder as he spoke, "We're not that far apart in age; no need to call us 'brother'."
Xiao Jian didn't react much, but Yan Xiao's long, narrow phoenix eyes stared at Han Jiaojiao with interest.
