On Rhode Island, Long Xiliang took out his phone and couldn't help but open Lu Xiaoyou's WeChat.
Before she suddenly started a voice call, she sent him a picture, which Long Xiliang hadn't looked at.
He didn't want to care, yet was inexplicably curious about what Lu Xiaoyou had sent him. Even if he looked at it and didn't reply, he still wouldn't care about her.
He swiped the screen, and the image loaded.
The man's breathing suddenly stalled.
Lu Xiaoyou was wearing a cheongsam, taking a side selfie in front of a full-length mirror in the dressing room.
She asked him, "Does it look good?"
She inherently looked good, with a natural allure, her skin as snow, and her posture like autumn water. Her face was as delicate as a flower, a perfect blend of innocence and charm.
When Lu Xiaoyou took a selfie of herself in the cheongsam in the dressing room, her face was flawless and unadorned, her eyebrows gently lowered, an alluring charm flowing from the corners of her eyes.
