The dining table fell into an unwarranted silence.
Wen Yi stared out the window, lost in thought, while his gaze rested on her face, seemingly casual, but it never shifted away.
Suddenly, she turned her head and was caught off guard by the man's deep and secretive eyes.
They held each other's gaze for a few seconds.
She forced a smile, "Mo Shichen."
Mo Shichen's eyelids twitched, this woman always called him Mr. Li Ru with a mocking tone, and rarely called him Mo Shichen.
He didn't speak, just looked at her dispassionately.
The tension-filled atmosphere from before seemed to have faded away.
Wen Yi said calmly, "You should go back to Paris, you will eventually have to return. Our marriage should have ended five years ago, and I've been living as a widow ever since. After you leave, we can start the divorce proceedings immediately—"
