Ning Ke instinctively wanted to open her mouth and rebuke Xiang Yang for being frivolous. Yet though her cherry-like lips parted and her rosy lips trembled, she could not utter a single word, as if some mysterious force had bound her. She could only clench her delicate fists.
Toward Xiang Yang, she felt an instinctive fondness. Though they had not known each other long and had spent little time together, she nevertheless felt as if they had struck up an old friendship at first sight.
It was not merely because his martial arts were formidable and drew her attention, but also because the attitude toward the martial way he revealed, whether intentionally or not, made her feel especially close to him. That was truly rare.
Xiang Yang also noticed something strange about himself. He hastily withdrew his fixed stare, gave a soft cough, and pretended that nothing had happened.
His will was ultimately tough and his spirit powerful. Realizing that his mind had wandered and amorous thoughts had arisen, he gathered his thoughts back in, condensing them like an elixir, until no ripples stirred in his heart again.
As for whether his heart was truly as still as water, only he himself knew.
After a pause, Xiang Yang pondered it. What he had done just now had truly been somewhat embarrassing; he had to say something.
Just as he was about to break the quiet, strange atmosphere between them, his expression suddenly changed. Avoiding Ning Ke's shy gaze, he focused his attention behind her.
At some unknown point, two people had appeared there. They had likely arrived during the lapse when his mind had been unsettled.
One was an acquaintance, Qu Ping. He wore plain white everyday clothes, and the peaceful, kindly expression on his face softened some of the