"Sister Mu?" What surprised Su Ziceng most was that poster. It was still Sister Mu in black and white, with her perfect proportions, her legs still intact, her gaze still sharp, no longer the dreamy and drunk Zimu holding a wine glass.
"You know her too?" Lin Ying's tone no longer held the cold indifference of their first meeting; anyone who appreciated "New" as much as she did was a good friend of Lin Ying's.
"I know her," the Sister Mu that Su Ziceng knew seemed more like a black cat hiding in the corner, absorbing the dark aura, rather than the black panther who confidently strutted on the runway.
"Like me, we all know her, but she doesn't know us," Lin Ying had completely lost her previously indifferent artist's air. She seemed like a loyal fan, cheering for her idol who had disappeared from the public eye.
It never occurred to Su Ziceng that her knowledge of Sister Mu came through the words of others.
