The man who was tender and intimate just moments ago now seemed like he had walked straight out of hell, carrying an ominous and chilling presence, his switch in demeanor catching Xia Weiyi off guard.
She knew who the 'he' Ye Che was referring to and promptly shook her head in denial, "No, Ye Che, I didn't—"
Ye Che's eyes, deep and intense, fixated on her chest, and Xia Weiyi, flustered with anger and shame, covered her snowy white skin only to have her hand intercepted.
Ye Che's palm gently caressed the mark on her chest and he demanded, "Yiyi, tell me, in Xu Zhiye's bedroom, on his bed, what did you do with him?"
He finally couldn't help but ask, although he had tried hard to tell himself to trust her, but everything before his eyes shook his resolve.
The question turned Xia Weiyi's face instantly pale, as if she had been struck by lightning, unable to move. The previously ambiguous and heated atmosphere froze instantly because of Ye Che's words.
