She didn't have that confidence. She didn't know whether she had let Yan fan's exquisite heart without waves set off a trace of waves this month.
Compared with all the previous planes, the boy of this plane makes Shen Wanqing unable to start.
She did not dare to do anything beyond that. She was afraid that she would blaspheme God and Buddha.
Because... She wants to respect him enough.
Yan fan looked at her. His eyes were very calm, which cooled Shen Wanqing's heart.
After a long time, Yan fan brushed away her fingertips and took back the sleeve. At that moment, he thought he was silently waving everything ruthlessly.
"Amitabha."
His slender and beautiful hands are folded, his long eyelashes are light, and his strange and beautiful eyes are gently closed.
His attitude was calm and gentle, his face was beautiful, cool and thin, and his voice was gentle, like a mountain stream.
"Your Highness..."
She looked at him and opened her eyes. It was a little funny that the pupils as calm as a deep pool flashed a trace of apology.
Shen Wanqing smiled at himself gently. He knew his mind, but he didn't know what to say.
Over the past month, the relationship between the two has been ambiguous, like a friend but not like a friend, like a stranger asking for scriptures but not like a stranger.
Under the appearance of idle, lazy and evil, his heart has been quiet without waves. Although he won't open his mouth to advise Shen Wanqing to stay away from him, Yan fan has been silently separating her from him with a polite and distant attitude.
"Yan fan, I ask you. Would you like to return to the common customs and then go with me?" Shen Wanqing's voice trembled. She bit her teeth hard, word by word.
Yan fan's snow-white fingertips gathered his sleeves, and his eyes and eyebrows were too weird and cold.
He shook his head gently, and his voice was flat and indifferent. "Your Highness, don't joke."
"Would you like to?" she looked at him persistently.
Yan fan sighed, determined and cold, "little monk doesn't want to."
Shen Wanqing's lips moved back and forth, looked at him for a long time, and then smiled at himself.
She's gone.
The courtyard is much cleaner at once. Today's wind is a little cold and there is no sun. The thick layer of Ginkgo leaves on the ground was blown by the wind and covered with dust.
Yan fan closed his eyes and looked compassionate and calm.
"All promising dharmas are like dreams and illusions, like dew and electricity. We should do so."
The past of this month is like a dream, passing by as fast as morning fog and lightning.
Yan fan slowly opened his eyes, "because all dharmas are impermanent, everything is in me."
â¦
â¦
The next day, the sun rose out of the window, warm.
Yan fan habitually put a plate of milk cake on the table as usual at noon. He carefully made a pot of fragrant tea that Shen Wanqing liked. He sat there holding a scripture waiting for Shen Wanqing to come.
But Yan fan waited for a long time. When the sun set, she didn't come.
He didn't want to study the Scriptures in his hand. His heart had long gone away in the afternoon.
In the canteen of the temple, the disciples rarely saw Yan fan who was eccentric and rarely entered the canteen.
Yan fan saw daoxuan. He heard Shen Wanqing mention daoxuan.
Daoxuan was surprised to see Yan fan coming. He looked a little flustered, "senior brother Yan fan?"
"I have something to ask you."
Daoxuan kowtowed, "elder martial brother Yan fan, please."
Yan fan's cinnabar mole in the center of his eyebrows was cold and peaceful. The peach blossom eyes of demons and ghosts had no previous carelessness. He turned his eyes and glanced at the people in the canteen.
Then Yan fan lowered his eyes without waves and waves, "you come out with me."