As soon as Yang Mingyu entered the room, he found something wrong with the man in front of him.
He put the lunch box on the desk and patted Mo Yixuan on the shoulder, saying in a deep voice.
"Eat first, Yixuan. This is stewed by the cook, especially for you."
Yang Mingyu frowned. Wittingly, he did not mention the name of He Xiyan. Even without a second thought, he knew exactly why Yixuan was so sad and why he cried.
He did not want to upset him any more, and was afraid that he would continue in a demoralized way.
Mo Yixuan closed his eyes, his face terribly pale. He waved his hand directly, motioning Yang Mingyu to go out.
"Take it away, I don't want to eat it." He answered coldly.
How could he have the appetite at this moment?
Yang Mingyu sat in the chair opposite him.
