After eating the sticky rice cake, Song Tingfan took a piece of wood from his room into the main room, then went to get his tools, and began tinkering by the fireplace.
Lin Qiao watched him carve a small bird out of the piece of wood. He was skillful; while it wasn't lifelike, it was immediately recognizable as a bird.
She stared in surprise at his profile, which was much more defined than before. His nose was quite straight, but not overly so. His skin wasn't as sallow as before, though it wasn't exactly fair either.
Her gaze finally landed on his eyes; there was a small mole beneath one, which she thought suited him well.
So handsome.
If he were in the entertainment industry, he would easily outshine all the male actors.
"Uncle, what are you making this for?"
Song Tingfan blew off the dust from the wooden bird and said happily, "For selling at the town during the festival; last year I made over ninety cents."
See, the villain is truly sensible.
