"Whew, whew..."
In the dimly lit room, the moonlight could only outline their silhouettes.
Music faintly drifted in from somewhere unknown, and it turned out to be a Chinese song, seemingly the theme song of a classic Cantonese movie:
"The road of life, dreams seem long, on the road with wind and frost, wind and frost face forward, in the mortal world, how many directions do dreams have..."
It's fortunate that this music masked Jin Zhixiu's heavy breathing.
In the corner near the door, Zhou Wang had to hold Jin Zhixiu's arm with one hand and support her slender waist with the other to keep her from collapsing onto the floor.
Yes, at this moment, Jin Zhixiu was not much different from a pool of mud.
She seemed as if she had been dancing energetically for hours, her forehead and neck drenched in sweat, and the originally not-so-sheer silk dress now clung tightly to her shapely figure, with one strap hanging loosely, exposing her pale shoulder and neck in the dim light.
