Lory observed the exhibition from the third floor, her gaze fixed on Zhao Li Xin below. He stood beside Hugo and Edmund, greeting the distinguished guests. Well—to be exact—it was Hugo and Edmund who handled the conversation, while Zhao Li Xin merely stood there like a flawless, untouchable mannequin.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. For Zhao Li Xin, crowds and noise were the things he despised most. It was one of the reason why he choose to pretend as the "dying prince" for very long time.
Zhao Li Xin had never found ease in the company of others. Their hollow smiles and petty intrigues were little more than a stale puppet show, endlessly repeated.
He loathed being disturbed so much that he would rather endure mockery and scorn than allow anyone to intrude upon his solitude. But here he was, deliberately stepping into the public eye.
