Liu Huo lay motionlessly on the bed. Ji Fengyan's scent filled his nostrils. It was not as cloying as the scent of flowers, but was indescribable—very delicate and elegant, like a flowing brook or like the mist that lingered in the mountain forests.
It was so pure it could make one forget the trivial affairs of the world and the filth that hid in shadows.
Liu Huo only dared to secretly move his line of vision slightly, to look at Ji Fengyan's peacefully sleeping face.
Ji Fengyan could not be said to be a beauty, but she had her own uniquely delicate features. Liu Huo vaguely felt that her face was much prettier than when he had first seen it. Although the features were the same and he could not say what had changed, it had just… become inexplicably prettier, prettier than any other face on earth.
