Feng Yun wore a wide garment in misty tower gray today, with a tight waist belt, her charming eyes vivid, her countenance bright as spring, her demeanor so uninhibited that she resembled the peony king blooming in the General Residence of Central Capital—a living embodiment of allure...
Regrettably, it seemed the General was oblivious to the mood.
He pointed to the spot beside him, signaling for Feng Yun to sit.
However, that left sitting as the only activity.
He at one end, Feng Yun at the other.
Separated by mere inches, yet it felt like the ends of the earth.
In their previous lives, there had also been times of silence between them; most often, it was he who chose not to speak, but the atmosphere had never been this odd.
Feng Yun glanced at him.
The man became even more handsome when serious, but not in the least bit charming...
She sort of missed the beastly side of Pei Jue—at least then he was flesh and blood, human. Now, he was dull, rigid, a big block of wood.