The cold wind blew.
A few strands of hair were slightly disarranged across Mu Jin’s fair forehead, and the pearls hanging beneath her delicate earlobes swayed in the breeze. Yet her gaze was fixed straight ahead on the small courtyard; her expression seemed calm, but it could not conceal her anxiety.
Her white skirt, embroidered with pink and turquoise patterns, fit her impeccably, blending a sense of spirited agility with docility.
Chapter 83