Her beauty, illuminated by the light, was cloaked in an unreal texture; a few strands of hair fell on her fair cheeks, adding a touch of charming allure to her appearance.
Her eyes sparkled with vivacity, her moist red lips beyond compare.
If one looked closely at that time, they would have noticed that the shade on Long Xiliang's lips was similar to the lipstick worn by Lu Xiaoyou.
But everyone was so captivated by the near-perfect beauty of the two that no one had the spare brain cells to wonder why their lip colors were so similar.
The godlike man held Lu Xiaoyou's hand firmly, leading her down step by step.
The evening breeze whipped fiercely on the rooftop, filing the woman's bright red skirt with air.
Her skirt bloomed like a poppy, brightening the entire night with a lively vibrancy.
Who could have imagined that just a few hours earlier, this seemingly delicate woman had shouldered a gun and shot several mercenaries who had attacked her?
