As soon as He Juan heard those words, any hint of warmth instantly vanished from his eyes, replaced with bone-chilling coldness. Mu Yuze, who was walking out of the kitchen with two plates of cakes in his hand, was startled and almost dropped them. "J–Juan gege?" He called out, his voice barely above a whisper.
He Juan snapped back to reality at the sound of that voice. He swiftly concealed his murderous intent and covered the phone's speaker, saying softly with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, let me answer this one call." It was as if the previous coldness Mu Yuze saw was nothing more than a figment of imagination.
"O–Oh," Mu Yuze managed to say. "Don't take too long lest the food will get cold."
"Sure," He Juan chuckled and rose to his feet, walking toward his own room. Once inside, his smile faded and his silver eyes were stormy with suppressed anger. He demanded with gritted teeth, "Explain!"
