Han Yao's face stiffened when he heard the voice.
Someone looked curiously in the direction of the voice. "Han, is someone calling you?"
"How could that be? You must have misheard." Han Yao raised his teacup for a sip, concealing his expression. "The view from the arched bridge in the lake is the best. Shall we have the boatman head that way?"
The words had barely left his lips when the female voice called out again, "Mr. Han!"
Ye Chutang tilted her head to look. A boat was moored not far off, a young woman standing at its prow.
She wore a simple white, fringed gauze skirt, her dark hair pinned up. Her brows were beautifully arched over glistening, almond-shaped eyes. Every glance was naturally enchanting, the very picture of a beauty so captivating one couldn't help but feel for her.
