Si Fuqing: Are You Even Worthy? (1)

Her features were striking, bold and relaxed.

Hers was a kind of beauty that came as an attack, a declaration rather than a subtle invitation.

But when her demeanor cooled, the contours of her eyebrows and eyes also took on a chill, exuding an extreme sense of detachment.

Yu Yao hesitated for a moment.

He had never seen Si Fuqing look at him with such eyes—cold, aloof, and tranquil.

Her pitch-black pupils were like dark, icy pools, and the naturally upturned corners of her eyes held not even the pretense of a smile.

Back when he had been studying abroad, he had occasionally run into Si Fuqing but had never given her a second look.

After all, three years ago, she had always been heavily made-up and overweight.

There was nothing about her that had warranted his attention. 

Later, he heard from some socialites that Si Fuqing had fallen seriously ill at the age of 16.