Inside the VIP lounge.
Lin Yue crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back on the sofa, and casually placed his long legs.
Across from him, a giant screen was playing classic songs with the original sound on. Every song was sung with extreme tenderness, and the lingering melodies filled the room.
Cigarettes were on the coffee table. His hand reached mid-air when he happened to catch sight of someone walking toward him, and his movement froze. Finally, he withdrew his hand, stuffing it into his pocket.
"Is it interesting?" Shen Jingrou didn't notice Lin Yue's subtle action and questioned as soon as she stepped into the lounge.
Today, Shen Jingrou was wearing a black spaghetti strap dress with a small shawl over it, making her skin appear even fairer. As she walked, her dress fluttered, exposing a section of her white calf, which made Lin Yue's throat tighten.
In the middle of the night, wearing that and not afraid of catching cold? Lin Yue was both angry and resigned.
