When Qin Mengying came out after blow-drying her hair, Ou Mingxuan's eyes lit up. Sure enough, it was that perfectly sleek, long, straight black hair.
She let her hair fall loose around her cold, indifferent expression. She looked gentle on the surface, but in her bones she carried a chill and darkness, giving off the feeling of a mysterious priest's sorceress.
From that first impression of a quiet, dignified Chinese woman, from plain and ordinary to faint surprise, every time he looked at her she felt different.
She seemed like a pool of stagnant dead water, yet deep beneath the surface the undercurrents were surging.
This woman was apparently… kind of interesting.
Unable to see through her at all, Ou Mingxuan decided to change tactics. "Your conditions!"
Qin Mengying's hand, which was tending to her hair, paused for a moment. By the time she reacted, the question had already slipped out uncontrollably. "Is the Zhao Family about to go bankrupt?"
