Under the faded light of the bedroom, his features were both more pronounced and more chiseled by the coloration of shadows and light. Perhaps due to the alcohol, his already fair skin looked more transparent than usual.
His whole person had the appearance of a silent statue, no signs of flaws or blemishes in sight. Even though his face paled due to the tiredness and drunkenness, the man was still startlingly handsome.
She had not seen him for three months, but she would see his face every day. In fact, often, she would be able to perfectly draw out his face in her dreams. In spite of the fact his face was forever seared in her mind, when she studied him at such a close distance, Song Qingchun's breath was still taken away from her.
The time in the room seemed to have stopped. He slept quietly while she looked over him silently.