The man put down his hat and turned around. The face he saw was the Saint Qingluo whom he had seen during the day.
"You don't seem surprised." Qingluo looked at Muhuan, there was no surprise on her face, as if she had known it would be her.
"You look at me like that during the day and come to see me at night. What's so strange about that?" Mu Huan lowered his head and played with his fingernails, stroking them again and again.
"You're really smart!" Qingluo murmured softly. "Then do you know why I'm looking for you?"
"Why?" He said it nonchalantly and casually, but actually Mu Huan was very anxious to know the answer.
"You are such an interesting person." Qingluo looked at Mu Huan's insincere expression and laughed out loud inadvertently. Her laughter was like the gurgling of a spring and sounded very soothing.
"I once had the honor of being summoned by the Palace Master." Qingluo still couldn't forget what a face that was. No words could describe it. His eyes were always indifferent, as if he didn't care about anything in the world. Yet, the look in his eyes was truly captivating.
"I also happened to see it once. It was the first time the Palace Master gazed at a portrait with such intense eyes." Qingluo had always believed the Palace Master was a deity from the Thirty-Three Heavens, untouchable, unbearable to be desecrated, and indifferent to everything. But after seeing that portrait, Qingluo realized the depth of the Palace Master's burning passion.
"Please get to the point, thank you!" Mu Huan felt that it might be a wrong decision for her to come and meet this woman because she kept talking nonsense.
"The woman in the portrait is you!"
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