Yu Lingqian turned his head and saw Mu Anran propping against the bathroom doorframe, only revealing a blushing face.
He indifferently withdrew his gaze, "Your clothes are on the second floor."
Mu Anran helplessly retracted her head, "What kind of villa is this, not even a single large towel prepared."
Inside the entire bathroom, there were only two hand-tailored white shirts in the wardrobe.
"Never mind!" Mu Anran decided, took out one, and slipped it on herself.
After she was dressed, she sneakily opened the bathroom door a bit and silently tiptoed to the second floor.
Yu Lingqian's usually stern lips quickly curved up a hint, his peripheral vision catching her retreating figure.
Mu Anran had a great figure, her loose white shirt's hem teased glimpses of her pale, straight legs, igniting the imagination.
The slightly transparent, quality fabric, outlined the curves beneath the shirt, sending pulses racing.
