In all honesty, she wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The girl's features and figure were gradually maturing, akin to a rosebud on the verge of blooming—after all, she was nearly eighteen. She looked at him with a smiling gaze, her crescent eyebrows lightly swept, her dark eyes like delicate ink dots, her skin surpassing snow in its whiteness, so tender that a mere puff might break it, resembling an exquisite little dessert bearing the words "For Your Tasting".
His mouth felt dry, and he unconsciously swallowed. Ning Xiaoxian walked towards him gracefully, the fresh scent of floral dew still lingering on her slightly damp hair.
She took a deep breath and smiled, "Okay, what should I do now?"
