"Mrs. Zhou, this way, please."
Zhou's grandmother had just stepped out of the taxi when a tall woman greeted her at the car door.
Not only was the woman tall, but she was also very beautiful.
Zhou's grandmother could only look up at her, asking, "Who are you?"
"My last name is Zhong. I'm a friend of Miss Gu. You were referred by Miss Gu, weren't you?" Zhong Qiaohui introduced herself to the elderly lady with a warm smile.
Zhou's grandmother's first impression was that this woman came from an extraordinary background, possessing a certain quality that even surpassed that of Gu Nuan. If one were to describe it, look at Gu Nuan, who, though cultured and poised, could cook and do household chores—clearly, she came from a poor family; culture was merely an addition to her upbringing.
The woman in front of her was entirely different, with hands so delicate and white that one could tell she never had to do any household work.
