Chapter 979 War General Stylist

• He wore straight-cut crimson trousers and a body-hugging white shirt. The hem was tucked tight into a slim leather belt, leaving his narrow waist exposed with a deliberate, almost taunting precision.
• His cheeks were lean, the contours sharp. Let the chin have tapered one fraction more, and the whole face would have become an artist's textbook oval.
• Hair spilled in a languid cascade along the left side, the ends loosely curled. The right side, by ruthless contrast, had been shaved to the scalp, a lopsided rebellion that hit the eyes like a lightning flash across calm water.