Suddenly, a sound echoed in the room, and a shadow appeared at the door. Yan Xiaobao focused his gaze on the shadow, and as the shadow took human form, he instinctively held his breath.
This woman was as unusual as Yan Xiaobao. Yan Xiaobao's hair was as white as freshly fallen snow, but this woman had golden hair that reminded him of cascading sunlight. Her curls framed her face, and her eyes were a golden hazel brown. When Yan Xiaobao looked into those eyes, he felt as though his soul was being drawn in, a wisdom incongruent with her youthful appearance lurking beneath them.
After a few moments, Yan Xiaobao found himself unable to breathe, his eyes gradually widening, and he lost control over his body. A feeling of weakness flooded his limbs, but as soon as it came, it disappeared, for the woman blinked.
