Outside the window, rain patter gently.
Large droplets struck the lake's surface, splashing up in a crackling symphony. The autumn wind brought a hint of moisture; water splashed onto the windowsill, and onto one's face, adding a smoky, ethereal mistiness and a refreshing clarity to the atmosphere inside the room.
A few stray strands of hair fluttered in the wind and stuck to her face. Vermilion Bird brushed them aside, and Zhao Changhe's heart skipped a beat.
Such a simple action carried a charm of its own.
What kind of person was Vermilion Bird? The pounding of his accelerated heartbeat sounded as clear as a drum right before her, and she couldn't help but burst into laughter, "You little tease."
Her laughter shattered the tranquility, as if a still frame suddenly came to life. The rain continued, the wind howled, and the little man in his heart finally averted his gaze, muttering, "How am I a tease? I haven't even touched your hand during our journey..."
