Red is usually a vivid color, but when she wore it, the vibrant red seemed to lose its luster.
Zhang Qingyue nodded, his taste, as always, was good.
"All right, Lili, you can open your eyes now," Zhang Qingyue continued.
Mu Qingli slowly opened her eyes. "Sister, did you put a hairpin on me?" she asked, reaching up to touch it.
"Don't touch," Zhang Qingyue grabbed her hand, "Be careful not to mess it up."
Her hand was as soft and delicate as her hair.
Zhang Qingyue's gaze became slightly distant, but she quickly let go of Mu Qingli's hand, pulling out a delicate little copper mirror from her wide sleeve as if by magic and handed it to her, "Take a look."
Mu Qingli took the mirror, looked from left to right, and beamed, "It's so pretty, thank you, sister."
"It's not worth much, saying thank you makes me embarrassed; so long as you like it, that's good," Zhang Qingyue said with a smile.