This stretch of road, the one Zhao Yiran had described as having the most beautiful scenery, felt more like a death march to Qi Xi.
She didn't know where to look. Gu Yan seemed to be in the same predicament. Staring at the lovey-dovey couples around them was impolite, and with the bus packed, even looking out the window was a luxury. Gu Yan could, thanks to his height, gaze at the ceiling, but the bus's constant jolting kept bringing his gaze back to Qi Xi. Sometimes it was just a flicker, but for some reason, Qi Xi could always sense his eyes on her.
It wasn't like no one else was looking at her, but Gu Yan's gaze felt different. It was as if his gaze had been given a physical form, like a small brush gently sweeping across her heart, making it flutter uncontrollably.