A wave of awkwardness and unease swept over her, silently creeping into her heart. The world around seemed to stand still in that instant, leaving only her flustered figure busily gathering up the scattered pieces, and the occasional breeze that brushed against her cheek, carrying with it an almost imperceptible note of regret. But Lin Qianxia knew that life was replete with unexpected interludes, much like the unfinished tales she painted with her pen, which always burst into a different kind of splendor at their turning points. With that, she took a deep breath, subtly integrating this unforeseen episode into the rich canvas of her life.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" Lin Qianxia's voice trembled with an involuntary delicacy, like the tender petals of a spring blossom quivering in the caress of an unexpected zephyr. Her eyes quickly lifted, and her gaze happened to meet that of the unexpected young man—Su Chenyi. He seemed to emerge from the very pages of a painting, a翩翩公子 with an extraordinarily handsome countenance, his eyes deep and enigmatic, tinged with an imperceptible detachment, as if he was encircled by an aura of inaccessibility.