「Two days later.」
Qian Qinghong paid a visit as promised.
In the tea room of the Su Mansion's main hall, Qian Qinghong was dressed today in a tight-fitting martial robe with a dark gold, flowing cloud pattern, outlining her proud, full curves in a breathtaking way. The robe had a high slit at the hem, and her pair of long, straight, beautiful legs were brazenly and casually crossed, stretched out beside the tea table.
What caught Su Yu's eye most was that her beautiful legs were tightly wrapped in a layer of gossamer silk gauze as thin as a cicada's wing. The silk clung to the contours of her firm skin, revealing a faint, tantalizing glimmer of pale flesh. The visual impact was surprisingly similar to the stockings from his previous life.
Su Yu held his teacup, his gaze lingering on her legs for a moment longer than it should have.
He was tempted to ask where the fabric came from, and if he could feel its texture.
