Song Qinghuan was momentarily stunned. She had never known that a man's smile could be so attractive, so attractive that she didn't even know how to describe it.
She instinctively muttered, "Even a demon isn't as beautiful as you."
Shi Yuhuan's face darkened, his gaze narrowed, "What did you say?"
Song Qinghuan blinked, looking into his deep eyes, she closed her mouth, afraid of facing inhumane treatment, "I didn't say anything. What... what do you want? I spent all night writing that document, I'm really tired."
Shi Yuhuan sneered: "You were asleep before midnight. That counts as 'all night'? You sure have a way with words."
Song Qinghuan glared at him without speaking. Yet, in her heart, she held a grudge. She imagined that one day she'd succeed and become very rich, richer than Shi Yuhuan. More importantly, she'd be powerful. No one would dare to disobey her.
