Long Linger looked at Lin Zhi, observing the particularly tender gentleness on his face. She stopped moving, closed her eyes, and allowed the brush in Lin Zhi's hand to gently sweep across her brows. The feeling of the brush lightly brushing against her skin felt strange to her because, despite being with Yeh Huang for so long, he never seemed to have done anything so meticulous.
Lin Zhi observed Long Linger's slightly lowered face, her thick, fluttery eyelashes resembling butterfly wings drooping slightly, with a hint of shy delicacy that made his breath a bit uneven.
Facing a woman they adore, few men can maintain their composure.
However, that feeling was fleeting, because Long Linger had already opened her eyes and looked at him, "How is it?"
Lin Zhi smiled gently, "Go have a look in the mirror yourself."
