Her figure was tall, and proportional. The tight black lace top outlined her slightly protruding abdomen and a hint of excess flesh at her waist, yet under a white hollow-knit outer garment, it not only showed no burden or bloat, but paradoxically added a unique charm of a mature woman.
At this moment, she held a very slender lady's cigarette between her long, fair fingers, standing quietly as she gazed out the window.
She gave off a sense of loneliness, as if she had seen all the vicissitudes of life and been stained by the dust of the world.
Beautiful, solitary, yet somewhat distant and unapproachable.
She seemed troubled, but disdained to speak to others of her thoughts.
In her bones, there seemed to be a strange arrogance and coldness.
She looked somewhat like a manager in charge of numerous beauties, or a woman disillusioned with the world, choosing to accompany loneliness, her heart as cold as ice.
Shen Qiang walked over.
Standing not far behind her.
