Shen Fanyun had to admit that Li Qiuchan was a confident woman. Ever since she was a girl, she had carried herself with an air of superiority, like a sacred white lotus blooming on a snowy peak—to be admired from a distance, but never touched.
After all, back then Li Qiuchan surpassed ordinary girls by a wide margin in every aspect, from her looks and academic intelligence to her figure. She was the undisputed crane among chickens, the focus of everyone's attention.
As time went by, Li Qiuchan, coddled and adored by all, naturally grew even more confident. But there is a limit to confidence. Once crossed, it is no longer confidence; it's arrogance. The impression Li Qiuchan gave Shen Fanyun now was precisely that of confidence gone too far. Her smile and her words were filled with a baffling pride.
"Between you and me, let's not talk about love," Shen Fanyun said with a shrug and a smile. "Coming from your lips, it's nothing less than an insult to the beautiful word itself."
