The carriage was spacious enough for four people to lie side by side; inside, there was a soft divan and a red sandalwood writing table.
On the table sat a teacup and teapot, as well as a lotus-shaped incense burner cast in bronze.
One could faintly detect the lingering scent of incense within the carriage.
Chu Yuxiao was leaning against the divan, flipping through a scroll since the moment he entered.
His lips were slightly pursed, emitting a faint aura of asceticism from his cold, aloof face.
His long, powerful fingers turned pages from time to time, and with every subtle movement of his sleeves, his gestures conveyed an effortless nobility and grace.
Su Yan sat on a cushion beside the table, her body lazily leaning against the carriage wall, her eyes incessantly observing him.
If one could overlook the violence he had inflicted upon her, he could indeed be considered a peerless individual in the mortal world.
