"Zhou Xinxin took it away?" Lu Xiaojiu blushed, surprised that he actually drew a sketchbook—it was such a delight. Lu Xiaojiu pressed him, asking, "In your sketches, what do I look like?"
"Just like yourself."
"Pretty?"
"Pretty!" Lu Bai affirmed her beauty. Lu Xiaojiu smiled sweetly at Lu Bai, a myriad of thoughts running through her mind. "Xiao Bai, you know, from childhood to now, only you've called me beautiful. Others say I'm cute or have charisma, but I know they're saying this out of respect for my dad, not sincerely. Only you have always thought I'm pretty from childhood. Aren't you just coaxing me?"
"You are beautiful," Lu Bai said, puzzled by anyone who couldn't see Xiaojiu's beauty. "Beauty is subjective; I think you're prettier than Xiao Qiao."
He casually provided a reference point.
