Qin Yin emerged from the fitting room, and the three people – previously bristling with hostility –, along with a store clerk, all stood there, gaping.
Qin Yin, looking like a sprite, stepped out from the fitting room. She was wearing the high heels made for trying on clothes. The dress wasn't very long, ending just at her knees, and while the collar was designed to reach up to her neck, there was a circular hole at the collarbone, perfectly showcasing her exquisite collarbone. The contour of her chest was vaguely visible, revealing just a tiny bit. Around her waist was a girdle belt, a clean-cut design without redundant lace or any such things.
The sight perfectly encapsulated the line from the poem, 'Her brows stealing the verdant color of day-lily, her crimson dress provoking the envy of pomegranate flowers'. She was enticingly gorgeous, coquettish charm imbued with grace, delicate elegance enriched with allure.
