chapter 12 I would rather listen to the music of prosperity than be the master of prosperity

But at this time, Silas Lowe focused his eyes on the girl, a girl dressed like a maid. The girl looked about seventeen or eighteen years old, her face was slightly red, like a peach blossom that had just opened, and under her long eyebrows, Flashing a pair of big blue pure eyes. Her white and tender little face is framed by a straight, beautiful little nose. Her long black hair is combed behind her head in a high bun. Some unassuming light-colored long skirts outline her whole body. It...