But she guessed that's what made him the perfect person for the job. He looked harmless yet Ouyang Xueqing could faintly felt the strength that he had deliberately concealed.
He was like a sheathed sword, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Ling Wenfu walking with her daughter, Ling Xiaochen, wasn't a strange scene, but the people were attracted to the little girl with flower mask covering half of her face that was walking alongside him.
There was something about the little girl. She had an aura of composure, the kind of air where she couldn't be bothered by her noisy surrounding, yet her round black eye was continuously observing the place.
Who was she?
They were curious, yet no one had stepped out to ask. It was a rule in this place that anything, no matter how bizarre it was, that they saw or heard must be forgotten the moment they got out of the front door.
It was not their place to ask questions.
