From start to finish, Princess Qingyang didn't even spare him a passing glance.
"…"
Murong Ye's mouth hung half-open, but not a single word came out.
The servant behind him was quite puzzled as well, unable to stop himself from muttering, "Is Princess Qingyang in a hurry? She didn't even greet the Young Master?"
Murong Ye felt the sting of humiliation, his expression souring. "So what if she greets me or not? We have nothing to do with each other. Why should I care!?"
Hearing the cold, hard edge and simmering anger in his voice, the servant quickly clamped his mouth shut.
But a knot of indignation remained stuck in Murong Ye's chest, making him extremely uncomfortable.
He forced himself to look away. Just as he was about to walk on, he suddenly remembered something and turned back around.
Seeing his master's strange expression, the servant ventured, "Young Master, what is it? Is something amiss?"
