She lay in an embrace that was reassuring and nostalgically warm, familiar.
Su Wanxin shifted her body slightly, quietly gazing at the person by her side, unable to divert her eyes.
She looked at him intensely, at his handsome brows and eyes, his tall nose, and his pale thin lips.
It was only in these moments, when no one could discover them, that she allowed herself to greedily, urgently memorize every detail of him.
When she first saw Fu Shihan as a child, Su Wanxin wondered how there could be a boy so good-looking?
Compared to him, the other kids she knew from the orphanage were like plain little potatoes, both unattractive and provincial-looking. It was hard for her to even muster up the courage to stand beside him.
As she grew older, she still thought he was the most handsome. Yet, it was exactly this good-looking face that would so often say flirtatious things to her with a straight face, leaving her flustered and blushing.
