Before long, Fang Zhixing walked into a private room, and soon met Meng Die.
She was a young woman with a tall and slender figure, standing at one meter eighty, with long legs as white as porcelain, resembling a model.
Fang Zhixing's first impression was very good; he felt a bit dazzled.
Meng Die wasn't the warm and passionate type of woman; she was like a proud and solitary plum blossom in the cold, her looks exuding a sense of aloofness, her eyes deep and mysterious, as if harboring endless frost.
She wore a flowing white gauze dress, giving Fang Zhixing a respectful bow, her hair fluttering about, an air of coolness about her like drifting snow.
"Very good!"
Fang Zhixing sincerely complimented.
Meng Die said with an icy demeanor, "Hero, I haven't even served you yet, and you already think it's good?"
Fang Zhixing replied with a smile, "I'm currently restless and need someone to calm me down, you suit my taste very well."
