Mo Shu furrowed her brows, glanced sideways, and pulled back her sleeve.
Xuanyuan Yichuan felt pierced by her icy gaze. Looking at her, he opened his mouth and eventually spoke his mind.
He said, "If he treats you poorly... you can come back to me."
Xuanyuan Yichuan's eyes were complicated, gazing at Mo Shu's deeply hidden inner turmoil.
Mo Shu felt very conflicted but no longer looked at him. As she was about to speak, she suddenly heard a familiar voice not far behind her.
"Rest assured," the man's voice was deep and magnetic, tinged with a strong detachment, "you won't have such a chance."
Xuanyuan Yichuan was startled and turned to look.
Yu Siqiao stood tall, the pattern of bright and dark clouds on him under the moonlight accentuating his aura of mystery and depth.
He walked straight toward Xuanyuan Yichuan, his cold demeanor only escalating.
When he reached Xuanyuan Yichuan, the hostility in his eyes almost seemed tangible, piercing towards him.
