Zhunti's lips were almost against her ear, his voice as low as the night wind brushing over zither strings.
"Such refined tastes today, Sect Master."
His voice was as soft as a feather brushing past her ear, yet as clear as ice beads falling onto a jade plate.
He enunciated every word precisely, yet strung together, they carried an indescribable tenderness, like spring vines quietly winding around her.
There was also undisguised teasing in it.
"This men's attire has quite a unique charm."
Time seemed to have pressed pause on Su Miao.
Her fingers twitched, and the teacup slipped in her palm, warm tea splashing onto the back of her hand.
She quickly steadied the cup with her other hand, but the lid still slipped off, bouncing twice across the table with a crisp clatter.
He had exposed her so directly.
Su Miao's heart suddenly raced, blood rushing to her cheeks as the tips of her ears burned hot.
Gritting her teeth, she forced out a voice so low that only the two of them could hear it.
"How did you recognize me? I even turned into a man!"
She truly wanted to flip the table.
Why?
Why, when her disguise was already this perfect?
Her facial contours, shoulder width, waistline, Adam's apple, the shape of her hands, even the few ounces of flesh between her legs—she had it all.
She was confident that even if Tongtian were standing here, he might not recognize her without looking closely.
Zhunti leaned back in his chair, as composed as though nothing had happened.
He picked up the teacup before him and took an unhurried sip. Only after his Adam's apple bobbed did he lift his eyes to her.
"A secret."
He blinked, the gesture carrying a hint of youthful slyness that formed