"A Jiang, what's wrong with you?" Mao Nana saw the woman next to her maintain a twisted head position, not moving for a while, and couldn't help but ask, subconsciously turning her head to look.
It was a middle-aged man, wearing a suit with a black coat over it and a top hat. His deep, three-dimensional facial features resemble a sculpture, each inch perfectly measured and proportioned by the creator.
This face was so handsome that it was excessive, but it seemed somewhat unrealistic due to its perfection, like a... how to describe it? Like a perfectly crafted mask.
The man's eyes were gentle, without any aggression, like any other kind and silent middle-aged uncle on the street. What made him better than those uncles was that this man had a mature and dominating aura of an old ruler in every movement, but it was like a sheathed sword, hiding its sharpness and leaving only a gentle appearance.
