"Why didn't you agree with Yao Hong? The chances of winning the championship are indeed greatest only if you team up with her."
Shen You'an glanced at the young man walking beside her.
The setting sun was blood-red, the young man's long eyelashes slightly drooped, casting a shadow beneath his eyelids, turning an ink wash landscape painting into a vividly colorful oil painting.
The quietly walking handsome youth, like poetry and painting.
Liu Runxi shook his head, lightly said, "The championship isn't that important."
If others heard this, they'd be furious.
But coming from Liu Runxi's mouth, no one questioned its truthfulness.
Shen You'an stared at him, dumbfounded.
Since they met, he's always been like still water, uncompetitive and ungrasping, low-key and indifferent, not competing for fame and fortune with the world; he appeared peaceful and unruffled, yet the depths of his heart held untold wisdom and potential, like deep water concealing an abyss.
