Xie Jiuhan, who was sitting in the master seat, was wearing a black sports suit. His slender white hands were gently placed on his thighs, and he was leaning against the back of the chair. He looked very lazy, but he gave off an indescribable pressure. The man's handsome face was covered in thin frost, and ice and snow seemed to be accumulating in every room. He was like a god who had walked out of ice and snow. He was so cold that no one dared to look at him directly, and he was so cold that no one dared to approach him.