With the angelic beauty, yet possessing a devilish indulgence, the deep, magnetic voice floated in the air with a gloomy tone, "So, it's just lip service!"
As soon as the words fell. A trace of struggle flashed in Qiao Muyun's dark green pupils.
"It's not like that." Qiao Muyun attempted to correct him, but his voice also carried an inexplicable vagueness. Why is it like this...
Since words fail, silence is the only option. The air was quiet, rippling with a breeze-like coolness, tightly enveloping the two in this dimly lit executive office.
No one responded again, letting time pass swiftly. After a while, the deep magnetic voice floated in the air once more.
"Actually...the old man was very unfair to you. It was his mistake not to acknowledge you. Do you hate him..." Qiao Junlie said casually, while holding a wine glass, elegantly swirling it, sipping slowly, as if his mood ebbed and flowed with the wine in the glass.
