On the screen suddenly appeared a scene that captured everyone's attention.
In the frame, a man was dressed in a pure black nightrobe.
The open V-neckline revealed his chiseled chest muscles.
Damp short hair casually hung in front of his forehead, vaguely covering his brow but unable to hide that excessively handsome face.
His eyes were downcast, the thick and long lashes still adorned with droplets not yet dry.
He looked lazy and casual.
Yet those deep crimson lips were pursed in an arc of icy pride that couldn't help but inspire fear in the hearts of those who saw it.
Behind him was a snow-white sofa.
The ultimate clash of black and white.
Full of a sense of abstinence, yet extremely alluring.
This intense visual impact shook even Yan Hong, a man himself.
Yan Qianyi's gaze was on Yan Hong and the others; she hadn't realized that the voice connection had switched to video.
Seeing the astonishment on their faces, she turned back in confusion.
