The figure stood up slowly and turned around. Only then did Murong Fu look at the person in front of him carefully.
Her complexion was like snow, her black hair was spread on the back of her head, her pointed chin, and her slightly gleaming lips made her look stunning.
The temperament suddenly resembles an orchid in an empty valley, or a narcissus on the waves. There is one part coldness, one part heroism, and one part stubbornness in his face.
Holding a jade flute, he has a Qinghua demeanor and a charming demeanor that makes people dare not look directly at him. Her manners are graceful and extraordinary, as if she were a fairy who has fallen into the mortal world.
Wearing a white plain dress, it gives people a clear and transparent feeling. A gust of wind blew by, and the plain clothes and belts fluttered, making him appear elegant and elegant, like an immortal descending from the earth.
The plain clothes cling tightly to each other, embodying the delicate and delicate figure to the fullest, just like the snow-white orchids at the bottom of the deep valley, exuding the deep sense of alienation and loneliness from the bones.
Only the pair of gray-white pupils under the curved eyebrows were incompatible with all this.
Under the sunlight, a deathly light flashed in his pupils. Just the sight of it standing so quietly in front of you makes people feel painful.
Murong Fu looked at the face of the figure in front of him and felt a little dull for a moment.
As everyone knows, a love that is not a sin but fate is suddenly planted at this moment.