Xia Chuyue glanced at Liu Mianmian.
The woman's face was veiled with gauze, making it impossible to discern her specific features. Only her eyes, clear as autumn frost, carried an unhidden sorrow amid their vibrancy.
Though she was merely a young woman in her twenties, her gaze bore the weariness of one who had weathered countless storms.
Clearly, she was examining the finest jade jewelry in the shop, yet her expression was entirely unmoved, as though even the world's treasures placed before her would fail to stir her.
And yet, outside the shop, she had seemed oddly enchanted by a bottle of inferior nail dye from the South Border.
What a peculiar woman.
Xiaowu also noticed her and lowered his voice with disdain, saying, "Princely Heir, this servant thinks this Miss is deliberately putting on an act before you to catch your attention!"
Women like her—he had seen plenty, his ability to assess such types unmatched.
Xia Chuyue cast him a sidelong glance.
