On the stage, the dancers wore outfits resembling "grass skirts," paired with leather shoes, and performed tap dance.
Those thighs,
so long,
so fair,
made Lao Yun's eyes burn with frustration, cursing incessantly, "How indecent! Such a disgrace!"
But despite his ranting, those old eyes didn't glance elsewhere even for a moment.
In the center of the stage stood a singer in a black qipao, draped with a silk scarf. Her eyes radiated enchantment, her waist moved seductively, and her voice—sweet with a trace of wildness—captivated the ears of everyone present.
"Rose, oh rose with your thorny edge~ Tomorrow storms may break and rage~ Yet cannot destroy twin blossoms on vine~ Rose, oh rose, my love divine..."
"The song is really wonderful."
What Zhou Xuan actually wanted to say was that the song sounded delightful, the dance looked spectacular, and those thighs were dazzling.
