He Shasha was beyond excited; she declared her taste was truly acute.
"Much improvement over before!"
That last sentence froze the smug look on He Shasha's face as she unhappily said, "Nan Fei, that's all in the past now, can't we forget it?" When Nan Fei mentioned the past, it reminded her of the foolish things she had done when they first met.
It was utterly humiliating.
Shi Xueyun walked slowly, her complexion somewhat pale. Her delicate willow-leaf brows were slightly furrowed, presenting a look of worry.
Someone immediately felt pity, "Xueyun, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell, or is something troubling you?"
"It's nothing!" Shi Xueyun shook her head.
Shi Xueyun indeed had worries, but she wouldn't easily speak them out. It was too embarrassing and didn't match her status. She was a talented young artist, the Closed-door Disciple of a national treasure-level painter—who could compare with her?
Yet, all this was overshadowed by Mi Yuezhen's arrival.
