This habit seemed to have been carved into his bones; it might not have been a big deal to stand up for Fang Ying, but he still habitually chose to turn off his phone.
Rain Silk Bar, a rather poetic name.
Under the cover of night, neon lights were enchanting; inside Rain Silk Bar, the music was deafening.
Cool and simple girls, following the rhythm of the music, twisted their bodies wildly, allowing men's eyes, gleaming with greed, to roam over them.
Yun Mu sat in the farthest corner, facing a short-statured fellow.
This guy was visibly impatient, incessantly tapping the table with the middle finger of his left hand, which bore two rings. His left eye was larger than his right, and he had a sleazy look.
"Brother, you told me to wait patiently, but it's been an hour already. Why hasn't Fang Ying arrived?" Chen Dalang was genuinely restless.
