As Lu Yang drove, he couldn't help but open the photo Lin Qingxue had sent for another look.
In a pure white long dress, set against a tall and slender figure, no other adjective could suffice but perfect.
Her mid-length hair cascaded down to her neck, exuding a fresh, natural aura. There must have been a breeze during the shoot; the wind teased her hair into a slight disarray, like a celestial being descending to earth, no longer aloof but part of this world.
Her facial features were as exquisite as a fairy's. She bore a strong resemblance to Lin Qingxue, yet lacked Lin Qingxue's coldness—her smile was brilliantly warm. Even through the photo, that smile seemed to have a healing quality.
The eyes were particularly striking; even captured in a photograph, they couldn't hide their vivacity.
This was a beauty, a supreme beauty, a beauty not inferior to Lin Qingxue, and completely different in style.
And she was Lin Qingxue's sister.