Lin Tingshuang, wearing a V-neck low-cut sky-blue dress, lay half-reclining on the lounge chair.
Her waist-length hair, black and smooth, spread over the chair, exuding a languid charm.
Beside her was a light-blocking board, under which her skin appeared whiter than snow, delicate and fresh.
Her slender fingers gently swiped across the phone screen, her slightly lowered eyes with long, curled lashes, quietly sitting there, her aura extending hundreds of meters.
Having grown up in a wealthy family, loved by her father and mother, her appearance and temperament were cultivated to perfection.
Tao Yuhao walked up to her and said, "Tingshuang."
Her gaze involuntarily fell on Lin Tingshuang's phone, where the screen displayed a man's photo!
The man's eyes were deep-set, with features so exquisite they seemed sculpted, flawless.
