Mr. Zhou stared, momentarily stunned, at the young girl before him. She was ethereal and serene, as if from a dream. 'How could a place like this produce such an otherworldly girl?' Her looks were secondary; more than half her face was hidden by a kerchief. The most striking feature was her pair of eyes, as clear as water. But it was her aura, her very presence—naturally quiet and subtle, yet when combined with those limpid eyes, it sparked with a boundless vitality that was nearly impossible to describe in words.
Just moments ago, as she passed by the study window, he had seen her cupping a book in both hands, lost in its pages. The sight of her, along with a branch of red plum blossoms braving the snow outside, had formed a breathtakingly beautiful picture.
