At this moment.
Dao An was sitting on a single sofa, long legs crossed, dressed in a perfectly pressed, meticulously tailored pinstripe three-piece suit, steady and restrained. While chatting with the person opposite him, his arm rested on the sofa armrest; the cuff of his sky-blue shirt showed beneath his well-defined forearm, adorned with a gemstone cufflink.
Sitting across from Dao An was a man and a woman.
The woman's long black hair was draped over her shoulders, the kind that had just been straightened, thick and dark. A mist-blue spaghetti-strap maxi dress set off her extremely fair skin, with an off-white knitted vest draped over her shoulders. Her faintly mixed-race features were stunningly beautiful.
