London has you.
The words were spoken lightly and carelessly, Wushuang's gaze drifting towards the sea with an indifferent smile, as if all of this were natural. Such an answer came out effortlessly, without the slightest hint of embarrassment or discomfort.
Kaka's composure was remarkable; upon hearing this, there was no particular shock, just a deep gaze fixed on Wushuang. The sea breeze lifted her hair, seemingly obscuring his vision, and suddenly, he was reminded of something from ten years ago.
That year, Wushuang was fifteen.
Already an outstanding beauty, slender and tall, independent, free-spirited. She had just returned from training in the Middle East, her demeanor carried a sort of efficient dominance and a faint shade of darkness, perhaps having just undergone two years of intensive and brutal training. At that time, Wushuang didn't know how to temper the sharpness she exuded, nor did she know how to naturally exhibit the demeanor of a regular person.
