The young woman covering her mouth with a light laugh looked at Lu Qingxue:
"Dear sister, tell me, what are you doing?"
This sentence finally caused a flutter in Lu Qingxue's expression, but mingled with hesitation, it lasted barely a second before being completely replaced by a firm decisiveness.
Lu Qingxue raised her head to look at Lu Qingyu:
"In a lifetime, everyone has the right to make a choice at least once."
Raising an eyebrow, Lu Qingyu might not have possessed the transcendent and icy temperament of Lu Qingxue, but her beauty remained beyond reproach, the simple action of raising her eyebrow bringing with it a different kind of charm.
"But what you're doing is completely useless, you don't belong to yourself."
"At least I have made my choice."
Lu Qingxue's voice carried a mysterious sense of determination.
"You're like a moth to a flame."
