Qingshu sat near the front of the bus, his long eyelashes occasionally fluttering. His skin was fair, and viewed through the window, he looked almost touchingly delicate. Feeling someone's gaze on him, he turned around. His clear, handsome eyes were magnetic, while his long lashes seemed to hide every trace of tenderness and reserve in them. Their eyes met. Qingshu smiled gently and shyly, then turned back around, without a hint of anything else.
Alan was a beautiful girl. Her beauty was not just in her delicate features, but in the elegance that radiated from her entire presence. The eyes are the windows to the soul. Li Ke often wondered who had come up with such a classic phrase. Almost everyone who was beautiful, like Alan and Shen Qingshu, had a pair of captivating eyes. It was as if anyone who met them would have their heart drawn in against their will.
