Behind the closed door of Xia Chong Zhai, the atmosphere in the hall was slightly eerie and desolate.
In the hall, a large group of people were either sitting or standing, yet they deliberately lightened their breaths, making not a single sound.
Their eyes were fixated, unblinking, on the woman who had just softly spoken the two words, "First Class" in the center of the room.
This woman's figure was slender and graceful, with a pair of long, autumn-like eyes, beneath which was a faint tear mole, her face as beautiful as a delicate flower, magnificently stunning.
At the moment, she was the focal point of everyone's gaze in the hall.
She was dressed in a trailing skirt of pale indigo, embroidered with intricate patterns of begonia branches and leaves using delicate gold and silver threads, adorned with thousands of genuine pearls from the North Sea, on the broad-sleeved blouse were clouds woven with dark gold threads.
