Yan Qingying not only looked cold but in fact... her personality was very cold as well. Xin Yun had never seen, nor heard of her smiling, especially when her clearly defined black and white eyes gazed intently, the brilliance they emitted made everyone's neck feel a chill.
Actually, women are very difficult to assess. Yi Luo Xiang's beauty could be described as perfect, flawless in every aspect, making it impossible to pick out even the slightest fault. The moment you saw her, you would involuntarily bestow upon her the title of the most beautiful woman.
There were many women, and many were beautiful; it was hard to say who was more beautiful or who was less so. It was just a matter of different flavors, feelings, and types. Different kinds of beauty, yet all equally enchanting—that is what women are.