On the big screen, there was a beautiful woman in a hibiscus-patterned Han Chinese dress. Her black hair was flying in the sky, and a Butterfly Dance golden buyao was inserted between her eyes. Her lips were red without a touch, and her eyes were bright like stars.
She was holding a Begonia fan between her fingers, the hanging Pearl silk all the way to her waist.
Eyebrows like green feathers, skin like white snow, waist like silk, teeth like shells.
As Xu Jingwei entered the room, a half-minute long camera swept across her boudoir and finally landed on her.
She turned her small face and looked at him sideways.
Her red lips revealed a faint smile.
When such a long shot was used on her, it only made people feel that time had stopped, the world was dancing, and it was as beautiful as a poem ...
Looking back and smiling, a hundred charms, six palaces of makeup without color.
"Hiss."
"She's the second female lead?"
"Beautiful."
