Mu Yingchen irritably threw the document he held onto the table, stood up, went to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a glass of wine, and raised his hand to down it in one go.
Then he poured another glass and walked over to the viewing platform, gazing at the distant scenery dotted with dim lights, his hands with distinctly articulated bones slowly swirling the crystal glass.
It had been two days, she hadn't come to the company for two days.
He thought that after that night, he could slowly calm himself down, but not seeing her for two days made him even more irritable and restless.
If what she said that day was true, then what about him? But he clearly—
He pulled out his phone, quickly pressed it twice, then stopped abruptly and put the phone away.
Knock knock—
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door, and he immediately composed himself, masking his irritable expression before coldly uttering the word "enter."
