Qi Yu turned around with the suit in his hand, looked at the very crowded fitting room, and was somewhat displeased.
Yet he still walked inside.
About ten minutes later, he finally changed his clothes and walked out.
Qiao Mo was already very anxious from waiting, and immediately went up to him, giving him a once-over.
Fortunately, apart from his somewhat frivolous gaze, everything else was suitable, and he managed to present about fifty to sixty percent of the suit's charm.
Qiao Mo hoped that when he was on the runway, the lighting on stage would be dim enough to cover the flaws in his gaze.
Stepping forward to carefully adjust his shirt and tie, after all, a suit demands a lot from a person, and any creases would damage one's stature.
The faint fragrance on the woman flowed into his nostrils.
Qi Yu, looking at her, was a bit distracted, and gently said, "Miss Qiao, would you be interested in having dinner together after the show?"
