"If that's considered a compliment, I accept."
Mo Shangjun spoke with an air of nonchalance, clearly not intending to provide Ya Tianxing with further explanation about the matter.
Hearing Mo Shangjun's almost indifferent response, the anger in Ya Tianxing's eyes deepened.
A compliment?
She sure thinks highly of herself!
"Wishful thinking."
Ya Tianxing spat out the three words irritably before resolutely securing the lid on the bottle of red flower oil.
The action was simple enough, yet Ya Tianxing applied so much force that the veins on the back of his hand stood out prominently.
Mo Shangjun caught a glimpse unintentionally, and for a moment, she had the illusion that Ya Tianxing could crush the bottle.
After some thought, Mo Shangjun changed the subject, "I have something I'd like to ask for your opinion on."
"I disagree."
Ya Tianxing, furrowing his brow, didn't even want to hear it and flatly denied her request.
