This was the second time Fu Huaichu truly saw Su Zhiruan. He stood in place, staring steadily at her.
Three years, neither long nor short, had done little to change Su Zhiruan's appearance, but her temperament had become calmer and more enchanting.
She stood at the doorway, with her long hair pinned up, and a golden hairpin swaying as she moved, dressed in smoke-blue silk adorned with patterns of Liuyun woven in silver threads. Her skin was as white as snow, her features like a painting, her face beautiful. Her entire being emanated a composed charm. Fu Huaichu was mesmerized; she was still the same.
The Su Zhiruan he remembered blended seamlessly with the one standing before him now.
He descended from the high platform.
Su Zhiruan took a half step back, already understanding what the so-called invitation from the Lord Prefect to attend the trade convention meant. It was likely an excuse conjured by the Crown Prince standing before her, and the objective was none other than her.