"Your tone is a bit cold. Say it again," Jiang Zheyu said slowly, her pair of tea-colored eyes focused intently on Shan Xun's face.
'Why is this guy always frowning, his brow all bunched up? He already looks so fierce, and he goes around all day looking like someone owes him a fortune, which just makes him look even fiercer.'
Those tea-colored eyes were like a vast expanse of sunset clouds descending upon a planet at dusk, gentle and brilliant.
As if moved by some unseen force, Shan Xun spoke again. "What kind of tone is gentle?"
This time, his tone seemed to carry a different kind of warmth, and even his voice couldn't help but soften.
It was as if, having fallen for those tea-colored eyes that resembled brilliant sunset clouds, his own heart had warmed along with the gentle dusk, and his tone had softened unconsciously.
