Compared with the casino's lower floor, the middle floor was finer, more lavish, and more expensive, from its flooring to its wall decorations. Anyone with a discerning eye would have recognized that even the lamp trays on the stone pillars were worth ten gold coins apiece. It was little wonder that patrolling guards appeared from this floor onward. If some fool failed to keep his fingers to himself, a blade would promptly take off his arm.
The gamblers on the middle floor were no ordinary people, either. Their clothing alone revealed their wealth. Among them, the person who most caught Zeng Mu's eye was a woman.
She looked to be in her early forties, perhaps because she took good care of herself and her cells aged relatively slowly. That was what anyone meeting her for the first time would have assumed. In fact, Madam Lin was already forty-eight, nearly fifty.
Her figure was truly voluptuous. She stood over seven feet tall, with beautiful legs three feet long, rounded thighs, and slender calves. The crystal flats on her feet seemed to glow with starlight. Her ample breasts put tremendous strain on the buttons across her chest, as though they might burst open at any moment-one of the reasons men kept stealing sidelong glances. Her hair spilled past her shoulders, wavy as a waterfall and fluffy as snow, yet black as ink, without a single white strand.
Compared with those features, her face could only be called aristocratic rather than soul-stirring. Yet her eyes clearly held a sweetness as refreshing as spring water. It was hard to imagine how utterly irresistible she must have been to men ten years earlier.
That had indeed been the case, but no one today dared say a word about it, at least within the Royal City.