The man's face was so dark it was frightening.
Wen Yi looked at him for a while, "I had a meal and took a walk to digest food, is that so strange?"
Mo Shichen, looking at her face which showed no sign of remorse, burst into an angry laugh, "Oh, you even had a meal together."
Wen Yi wasn't someone with low emotional intelligence who couldn't follow the conversation; this man looked clearly jealous, which was plain to see, and of course, she felt it, but...
She tugged at her lips, "I had a meal with a friend, is there a problem?"
"Friend?"
"What else?"
Mo Shichen turned his head and glanced at the painting beside him, which, bathed in moonlight, glowed white. He averted his gaze, chuckled, and said calmly and lightly, "Wen Yi, I'm not some hot-blooded teenager. There's no need to bring a man around to provoke me; it's pointless, you know?"
