This introduction was too ordinary, so ordinary that in her mouth, Bo Tingxiao had no adjectives at all.
The gazes of the two men fell on her at the same time, and the next second, as if by mutual accord, they lifted their eyelids, their eyes crossing in an instant—one cold and harsh, the other steady and composed.
The clash between men never requires any superfluous commentary, their silent struggle of eye contact always so unrestrained.
A few seconds, or perhaps even shorter, Bo Tingxiao was the first to extend his hand, "Mr. Shang, I've heard much about you."
Shang Yu replied with an equally unhurried handshake, and half a second later, they both let go.
The man glanced at Li Qiao, his voice deep and mellow, "I've heard Mr. Bo took good care of Qiaoqiao back in the days. In the future, if there's a need, don't be strangers to us."
The word 'us' made a clear distinction.
