After that night, Quan Hanting's mind would occasionally conjure up scenes of their passionate entanglement, sometimes in his dreams and sometimes when he was awake.
He had to admit that this woman had entered his world in a way he had never experienced before, occasionally teasing the dormant string in his heart.
So, he cared.
But what about her?
With a smile free from any resentment, she interacted with him calmly, as if nothing had happened between them that night, or perhaps, that night meant nothing to her?
Quan Hanting felt a hint of frustration. Why was he the only one who cared? Why could Shen Wan be carefree and indifferent?
Yet this emotion was shallow and faint, to the extent that he himself didn't fully grasp that it was called "frustration".
After all, the Sixth Lord, who had always been on a pedestal, had never experienced anything like this before.
Shen Wan's smile gradually faded. "What do you want to say?"
