Entering the room, the man silently surveyed his surroundings, then turned his gaze to Wen Qian's damp hair.
The corner of his lip curved slightly as he casually picked up the hairdryer from the table. "Come, Qianqian."
With Gu Mian, Wen Qian always felt a sense of tranquil peace.
Perhaps it was because his eyes were always so incredibly deep and focused when he looked at her, or maybe it was the slight upward curve of his lips, which always held an air of warmth and acceptance.
In any case, she couldn't help but relax whenever she was with him.
She walked over to his side.
Gu Mian pulled out a chair for Wen Qian and gestured for her to sit before flicking on the hairdryer.
The warm air dispersed the fresh scent of shower gel that lingered in the room.
The girl's long eyelashes fluttered gently, like the wings of a butterfly brushing against the surface of the water.
