Ya Tianxing said one thing that made Mo Shangjun stay.
Though the others were puzzled, they didn't ask any questions on the spot and discreetly left.
Once everyone was gone, Mo Shangjun thought for a moment, then sat back down in the chair, leaned against the backrest, and raised her eyebrows as she looked at Ya Tianxing.
"What's up?"
Mo Shangjun asked bluntly.
"Sit here."
Opening the notebook on the desk again, Ya Tianxing pointed to the spot where Ji Ruonan had sat before.
The pen twirled rapidly between his fingers, and after a moment of hesitation, Mo Shangjun finally sat down on the chair to the left.
"Got a problem with me?"
Turning to the page about himself, Ya Tianxing lifted his finger and rhythmically tapped on that page.
Mo Shangjun involuntarily looked at his fingers.
The movement was slow, with the forefinger and middle finger slightly curved, gently tapping on the paper, each finger long and beautiful, set against the soft light, a sight for sore eyes.
