Several minutes later.
As Wang Xiaolong pushed the gate and stepped into the courtyard, a faint aroma of food wafted to his nose.
"Did Qiao'er bring over some dishes?"
It was his first thought that Li Qiao'er had come by, since Tian Xiaoqian was so young and often hung around nightclubs, she didn't seem like a woman who would cook.
But once inside the house, he saw only Tian Xiaoqian.
She was wearing one of Wang Xiaolong's white shirts.
The oversized shirt, with its gaping neckline, revealed large swathes of her pearly white skin.
That proud curve played a game of hide and seek between the gaps of the buttons, exuding an alluring allure.
The lighting was dim in the cornfield last night, so Wang Xiaolong didn't get a clear look.
Seeing her today, she truly had skin as fair as a woman in the bloom of youth could possess, unmarked by sun exposure or signs of hardship, and that soft, tender feel, felt almost moist to the touch.
