As Yao finished speaking, Dan Hanjie strode in.
His long legs wrapped in black trousers, his matching black shirt accentuated his perfect face, giving it a cold and fierce touch. His every gesture exuded an unmatched aristocracy.
Each step, felt like it was stepping on people's hearts.
"Mr. Jie," Yao quickly walked up and stood by his side.
"Ji-Jie..." Meng Ziqi stared blankly at the man who had walked in, her eyes suddenly enlarged.
Her hands nervously gripped the armrests of her wheelchair.
Dan Hanjie gave her a cool glance, then elegantly proceeded to the sofa and sat down.
He unbuttoned his suit coat and leaned back into the cushion.
With one hand clenched at his temple, he languidly glanced in the direction of a nervous Meng Ziqi.
"You're very clever, but has anyone ever told you that very clever women die early?" The sound of Dan Hanjie's voice was as cold as ice water dripping off a mountaintop, chilling to the core.
"The wound on your back, was given by Jin Lan."
