The early August temperature felt like a steamer, quite hot and stuffy.
There was a coffee shop at the corner of the street, featuring a retro style.
Sunlight passed through the dense leaves and poured onto the floor-to-ceiling window of the spacious café, through the glass and onto the white table corner.
A man in a black shirt sat at the table, his eyes attentively browsing the book in his hands. His bronze skin glowed with a layer of gold in the sunlight, and his handsome, heroic profile was strikingly defined.
The unique aura of nobility and cool detachment he exuded was completely out of place with the hot and noisy summer, like a painting locked in a cabinet, unaffected by the world—not dazzling, yet impossible to look away from.
His fingers lazily flipped the page, his pitch-black eyes scrutinizing the inked text, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Hello, Young Master Jue, I'm Bai Ya."
