Dongfang Huaizhu and Dongfang Qinlan (2)

"Ye Qingcang?"

"Hehe, that's a nice name!"

"It sounds pretty good!"

Dongfang Qinlan, dressed in a white ruqun dress with a purple sash, brightened visibly. Her favorability toward Ye Qingcang rose considerably. If it had previously been five—roughly equivalent to strangers—then it could now be called ten. Especially after she sized up Ye Qingcang's looks, her favorability soared again, racing all the way to around twenty.

It was worth noting that the maximum score was one hundred.

Thirty meant they were familiar faces.

Fifty meant ordinary friends.

Seventy meant close friends.

Ninety was probably a trusted confidant.

At one hundred, they could trade their lives for one another without hesitation.

Of course, reality was not a game. It would be wrong to use favorability to judge a person's actions, because everyone's understanding of others changed with time, circumstances, deeds, and experience. Just as a twenty-year-old looking back at their ten-year-old self would think they had been foolish, that same person, upon reaching thirty, would look back at their twenty-year-old self and feel equally foolish. The same held true at forty, looking back on thirty. People were always growing, and growth brought changes in perception. Different people would have different views on the same matter; even the same person would see it differently at different ages. Data could at most serve as a reference.

Still, good looks brought a considerable advantage. They were like a business card: a finely made card would undoubtedly be kept by more people. Even without knowing its owner, people might put it away just in case, or use it to lay the groundwork for future connections.

Therefore, Dongfang Huaizhu first cupped her fists in greeting.

She carried herself like a true daughter of the Jianghu.

It subtly put some distance between them.

It also ensured that