He Qianhui's figure naturally didn't need much description.
Even though she wasn't dressed revealingly, her body was wrapped tight like a rice dumpling.
You could still tell that her figure was shapely with curves in all the right places.
The neckline of her clothing had some loose threads, and the added pearls resembled a beacon.
It made one involuntarily shift their gaze to that almost bursting point.
"Nowadays, clothes are not only expensive but also of much lower quality than the stuff you'd find at street stalls; they fall apart with the slightest movement."
He Qianhui still seemed to be talking to herself, oblivious to those around her.
The man sitting across from her suddenly felt his mouth go dry and his tongue parched.
As a seasoned player in the game of love, he had seen his share of young girls, barely eighteen or nineteen years old.
He had also made the acquaintance of mature women who still held a charming allure.
