She tilted her head and pressed her lips together, "What do you an by that? I really don’t understand, I’m not lying to you."
Mu Jin Huan’s well-defined fingers pinched the woman’s chin, turning her head back slowly and said unhurriedly, "Mrs. Mu has lied too many tis, she has no credibility left."
His actions were assertive, but his tone was gentle.
Nan Wan’s gaze couldn’t escape, falling deep into those dark profound eyes.
Because of the beauty mark at the corner of the eye, the delicate features didn’t seem dull even without a smile.
Her rosy lips moved slightly, softly asking, "Are you trying to... date ?"
She stopped pretending to be confused, and the hidden anger between Mu Jin Huan’s brows slightly faded, "You could interpret it that way."
The alcohol in her began to stir again, causing even the temperature of her breath to gradually rise.
"We... are already married."
His voice was husky, "Is there a conflict?"
This rhetorical question left Nan Wan confused.
Hundreds or even thousands of years ago, most marriages could be described with four words: love after marriage.
Countless people married without even having t each other.
And now, in the fast-developing twenty-first century, such marriages still exist, but... aren’t they sowhat unsuitable for each other?
The Nan Family where she grew up was so closed off that no light could penetrate, and the remaining vitality in a decayed heart had long been consud by over ten years of ti.
Lu Li was a ray of light shining into that hell, yet warmth she couldn’t reach.
Mu Jin Huan stared at those unfocused eyes, the dark color in his black eyes becoming more intense.
She was lost in thought...
His thin lips lingered near her ear, his agile tongue stirring a sense of intimacy, as if intentionally provoking her response, "Do you really think I agreed to marry you just for that house?"
Nan Wan stared at the ceiling, startled, and asked, "Isn’t it?"
"The Mu Family’s connections in Qing City are extensive, although the old lady was determined, this matter was indeed tricky, but for soone like , what ans can’t I employ, hmm?"
The raised tone at the end was lingering and ambiguous.
Nan Wan had considered, but for a well-experienced man like him, having seen all kinds of won, he could still remain detached after passing through nurous beauties.
Why would he take notice of a disreputable person like Nan Wan...?
Her cheeks blood with a bright smile, her voice light, "Then... did you set your sights on long ago?"
As soon as she finished speaking, the door was pushed open from the outside.
Zhao Ying saw the lively and fragrant scene before her, her face instantly turning red, and the cup in her hand nearly dropped.
Entering or retreating wasn’t an option, she quickly lowered her head, her voice low like that of a mosquito, "Sorry, sir, I saw the study light was on, so I thought both you and madam were inside, hence I didn’t dare disturb and wanted to place the hangover tea in the master bedroom."
Mu Jin Huan pulled over the duvet beside him to cover the person beneath him, casting a stern gaze, his voice like it was soaked in ice, "What are you standing in the doorway for?"
Such cold words snapped Zhao Ying out of the sensuous image, "Sorry, sorry..."
In a panic, she retreated and closed the door.
Zhao Ying’s steps were disordered, and when she reached the staircase corner, she couldn’t help but glance back towards the bedroom.
The cup in her hand tilted, the liquid flowing over the rim, tracing down her fingers, dripping from the cup’s bottom, yet she remained unaware.
If... it were her lying beneath Mr. Mu...
Aunt Zhou felt thirsty, intending to get a glass of water from the dining room. When she ca out of her room and saw Zhao Ying standing blankly at the corner of the second floor.
She looked as if she had lost her soul.
"Xiao Zhao, didn’t sir instruct us not to go upstairs at night? How did you forget?"
Hearing Aunt Zhou’s words, Zhao Ying quickly retracted her gaze, righted the tilted cup in her hand, and headed downstairs.
"I saw sir had been drinking and has work tomorrow, so I brewed a cup of hangover tea."
Aunt Zhou adjusted the shawl on her shoulders, taking a deep look at Zhao Ying, who still wore sothing quite skimpy in winter.
As she walked towards the dining room, she said, "Being a servant, one must follow orders."
Zhao Ying felt annoyed, thinking Aunt Zhou was ddling in her affairs under the guise of age, repeatedly using this phrase to block her.
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