The comfortably pleasant cold air blew into every corner of the prep room, and the faint fragrance permeating the air was also refreshing.
Joy Linwood quietly gazed at Clara Sutton's face, clean and beautiful like white porcelain, with long willow-like eyebrows and mild, clear eyes that carried an obvious coolness and aloofness.
"I must admit, you have a face that makes me envious," she spoke slowly, her voice light, with a hint of melancholy.
"To hear Miss Linwood praise me like this does make me somewhat fearful," Clara Sutton paused slightly in her coffee-drinking motion, put down the coffee, and looked at her, "After a month without seeing you, Miss Linwood seems to have changed a lot."
Joy Linwood lowered her gaze, her hands tightly intertwined, and finally relaxed them slowly, gently removed her hat and mask, and summoned the courage to lift her head.
Upon seeing her face, Clara Sutton's pupils shrank, showing a trace of amazement and surprise.
