Under the cover of night, the street lamps in Shijin Haoting gradually lit up, one by one. A gentle evening breeze rustled, causing the fragmented reflections of the lamps on the water to shimmer, emitting a twinkling ripple of light.
The black Rolls-Royce, under the refraction of the moonlight, seemed to be draped with a layer of silver frost. Standing by the entrance, a man's tall figure was straight and upright. Even a side view of him was dazzling enough to make one's heart flutter, as if he were a divine figure straight out of an ancient painting, unrivaled in the world.
Suddenly, the tightly closed door creaked open. As Jian Qing looked at the man standing at the entrance, her expression froze for a moment. Their eyes locked, and the atmosphere became silent.
