Black Qipao Dress Novels & Stories

A fireplace dominated one wall, its dancing flames casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the collection of antique weapons displayed on the opposite wall. Standing before the fireplace was a woman whose presence commanded the room. She was dressed in a red form-fitting traditional Chinese dress—a qipao—with high collars and side slits that exposed her slender legs in an elegant yet seductive way. The garment was embroidered with intricate dragon patterns in gold thread that caught the firelight, seemingly bringing the mythical creatures to life as she moved. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek style that emphasized her high cheekbones and the graceful line of her neck, adorned w

I ask, shaking my head. She grinned. "I thought black was more fitting." She's wearing a black dress appropriate fora funeral not a wedding. I adjust the lace collar which has fallen over and use it to tug her closer, taking in her paler complexion, her wide eyes as she waits for my reaction. "You're right," I start, playing her game. Winning it. "Black is more fitting for a cartel princess become mafia queen." I cup the back of her head, weave my fingers into her hair and tug when she pushes against my chest.

"Ok." I change into the dress and pair it with a statement earring since there wouldn't be any need for a necklace due to the high neck of the Qipao cheongsam. I dab a bit of powder and apply a decent amount of lip gloss. I slip my feet into the RENE CAOVIILLA black lace-up sandal Jordan got for me from Shanghai. If he keeps buying things for me at this rate, I might need a container to fit all my things. I spray a bit of perfume and head out. At least, I got the perfume myself. "You look ravishing. I can't wait to show you off to the world."

Through the whispering crowd, back and white dress and mask-covered faces, She noticed what had caught his attention. Barely entering the door and deciding to be rebellious as hell walked in a young Alpha pair. The guy must have been around her age, same for the girl, while they stuck to wearing black and white as asked, they did not wear their masks but scowls and snooty looks. The guy with wavy blond locks wore his suit unbuttoned and his shirt half open as if to flash skin purposely. The black-haired beside him must have had as much confidence as Victoria's Secret model because although she wasn't as tall and skinny she was the fit type of curvy and she wasn't hiding that. Her black dress

Leora PoV "Grace, what is this?" I pointed to a dress placed on my bed. It was a very beautiful dress. Made of fine blue satin, it is a sleeveless jumpsuit with a high collar like a cheongsam, typical Chinese women's clothing. I caressed the dress carefully, afraid that my nails would tear the beautiful dress. "That's the dress I prepared for you for an exhibition of classic dresses held by an art institute, which we will attend together," said Grace in a cheerful tone. She handed me a large paper bag. "And this. You'll have to wear it later."

He entered his room without a word, while I stood at the door, frozen. It was slightly ajar. I wasn’t sure if that was an invitation… or just a mistake. “I said you should come with me,” came his voice from inside. I swallowed, but still did as I was told. When I stepped in, I was stunned to find Khai standing there—with an entirely new dress in his hands. It was a dress that screamed beauty born of power. Not just made to honor a woman, but crafted to crown a queen. The fabric shimmered in shifting tones of lavender, silver, and soft gold.

Today flew by effortlessly, I thought it would drag along, especially since I was rejecting Chris tonight. It's time to get ready for the ceremonies, I finally pulled out the dress Priscilla brought for me, it is utterly breathtaking. The gown is long with a high slit up the left leg, it's strapless and it's a black silky material, with gold accents above the breast line, it also has long opera style gloves with gold accents at the very top. As I lay my gown out, there's a knock at my door.

Maybe something else she didn’t have a name for. She didn’t want to go. But she also didn’t want to back down. Thirty minutes later, she stood in front of her mirror, slipping into the black dress that had been laid out in her closet. She hadn’t bought it. She hadn’t seen it before today. But it was her size. It fits perfectly. Simple, but sleek. Black silk that hugged her waist and stopped just below her knees. Clean lines. Thin straps. It looked like something from a high-end runway show.

Not another minute. I turned on my heel, my heart a hammer against my ribs, and walked back to our room. I needed out of this place. Now. I threw open the closet doors, my eyes scanning the clothes I had bought with Lorenzo's money. I grabbed a Black dress that I remembered being very short, ending high on my thighs. The back was completely open, a daring plunge that showed off every curve of my spine. And instead of straps, intricate ropes crisscrossed behind it, tying at the nape of my neck. The front had a dangerously deep V-neck that barely covered anything.

It’s not in vain that she put all her might to create that dress. “You’ll certainly look wonderful if you wear that dress,” said Chin Hwa. He stood two steps away on Qeiza’s right side. Both his hands were hiding in the pockets of his trousers. His eyes flashed brightly, staring at the wedding dress before his eyes. Qeiza turned to Chin Hwa slightly. “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “It is the dress that Joanna ordered. Why should I wear it?” “I’m just imagining my future bride wearing it,” said Chin Hwa. “And … it’s so much fun.”