Hearing this, Li Qiao shook her head faintly, letting the weight of her cheek rest fully in his palm, "That won't be necessary, he's making a mountain out of a molehill; there's no need for you to act on such a trivial matter."
Jing Ruian had no ill intentions; he probably just couldn't extricate himself from the gratitude of being saved all these years.
...
Ten minutes later, Li Qiao left the tea room.
Outside the corridor, Liuyun and Luoyu stood to the left and right, quiet and still. Seeing her come out, both nodded their heads, "Miss Li."
Li Qiao frowned slightly in acknowledgment and lazily walked past them.
Liuyun watched her retreating figure and subconsciously pursed the corners of his mouth.
Miss Li's lips seemed swollen.
Meanwhile, Li Qiao's slender figure leisurely exited the ancient castle villa. A shadow loomed behind her; she turned her head and saw Luoyu following two meters away.
"Miss Li, I will accompany you."
