Her pale, slender hands covered her eyes, though she was no longer dreaming. Yet, the scene from moments ago remained vivid and clear in her mind.,After speaking, she closed her eyes, a rare weariness settling on her brow. She lay back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. Her ink-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, save for the section pulled up and adorned with a peachwood hairpin. Her slender waist was cinched tight, the folds of her skirt billowing gently around her as she swayed slightly with the breeze. Two sashes hung from her waist, rippling in the wind.,A gentle breeze opened the curtain, revealing her face. Her skin was as white as fine porcelain, unadorned yet elegant and refined. While she wasn't breathtakingly beautiful or stunningly captivating, she possessed a unique charm. Her brows were like ink paintings, naturally dark and delicate, her features small and graceful, with an air of youthful vibrancy that made her appear particularly striking.。