The courtyard with blue bricks, Qin Ming leaned sideways on the stone table, a fine porcelain teacup between his fingers, from which misty tea vapor elegantly rose as he gazed at the tall figure ahead.
The Chairman's silver hair was like brocade woven from moonlight, her black eyes were profoundly deep, and her red lips curved into a faint arc, accentuating her cold nobility.
She seemed to have revived, with a body overflowing with astonishing spirit essence.
On the stone table, the tea in the cup suddenly rippled, with two drops landing on Qin Ming's fingertips, he almost couldn't hold back and aimed a fierce strike at the Chairman.
At the last moment, he forcibly restrained himself, observing in silence.
The Chairman's plain clothes were whiter than snow, surrounded by a faint halo, her eyelashes quivering softly, her gaze rippling, reflecting Qin Ming's blurred silhouette within.
