The living room was brightly lit, and from its balcony, one could see the roses in the garden below, vibrant and eye-catching, their fragrance wafting through the air. As the beaded curtains in the living room gently swayed, the room was filled with sentiment.
Kaka, dressed in casual white clothes, looked warm and handsome, like a piece of natural jade. His perfect features were as if outlined by the most beautiful portrait artist, with each stroke deliberate and precise. Within his brows lay a sense of tranquility and profound wisdom. This version of Kaka was both familiar and strange to him; he had seen this side of Kaka since childhood, yet scarcely the other. It always left one with the impression that Kaka might be a robot.
Not quite real.
Even when asked such a sharp question, not a hint of emotion fluttered across Kaka's face. It seemed in the entire world, only Wushuang could elicit a second emotion from him. But why, oh why, could he not just accept Wushuang?
