Ye Qiyun turned and walked away, unwilling to pay attention to the man, although his smile was dazzling.
"Beauty, you really don't give any face," the man said as he watched her retreating figure, her long chiffon dress fluttering in the sea breeze, while he still held the beautiful conch in his hand.
Upon hearing this, Ye Qiyun turned to glance at him, her hair blown onto her face by the wind: "I don't know you, why should I give you face? Young man, if you're sick, get treated."
Having said that, she slightly lifted her chin and left without giving any face.
The man watched her figure grow increasingly distant, the hem of her dress fluttering in the wind like a blooming white lotus, and her black hair dancing in the wind, like countless black butterflies. She was very beautiful, like an exquisitely delicate, pure white doll.
"What an interesting girl," the man's gaze followed Ye Qiyun as she went away.
