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Gulu, Gulu gulu...
One of Po Xu Yuzhuang’s eyeballs rotated clockwise, while the other rotated counterclockwise. The frequencies of the two eyeballs’ rotations were even different, giving off a peculiar sensation.
Song Yan stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at that porcelain doll-like pale face.
And that face seriously studied him in return.
But it was definitely not a gaze of deep affection—it was learning, mimicry.
Before long, Po Xu Yuzhuang’s ...
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