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Chapter 42 First Love 4_1
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... erest heart of a May rose, the first sip of honey gathered by a bee, the first sliver of a crescent moon at dusk, the first taste of an intoxicating dream...
There was no wind, yet his robes fluttered. He had drunk no wine, yet he was intoxicated. A mere kiss, and he was already smitten.
When she was on the verge of suffocation, he let her go.
At that moment, he gazed at her—like a connoisseur of jewels seeing the most brilliant diamond. It was natural, unpolished, yet so ...
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