Vishdair put on a band-aid in front of Lin Guang, then slipped into a loose gray T-shirt and stretched lazily.
The morning light pierced through the gaps of the blinds, transforming into beams that happened to fall on her.
As she stretched, the fabric tightened, outlining her slender waistline and full, perky curves, as if those astonishing shapes were ready to break free.
If the past version of her was a thorny, budding rose, dangerous yet beautiful, then at this moment, as she shed some of the mercenary's fierceness, the allure of a mature woman emanated like fine wine, even more intoxicating.
Her fair feet touched the warm wooden floor without a sound, the crimson nail polish resembling congealed blood pearls, adding a touch of enchantment.
Stepping out of the living room, the aroma of food had already filled the air.
