Leng Youchen was biting a cigarette in his mouth, and the look in his eyes had gained a hint of devilish roguishness, not at all resembling his usual refined and scholarly demeanor. He patted the leather sofa next to him, "Come, sit beside me."
Wei Anning involuntarily took a step back, shaking her head like a rattle-drum, "No, no, no, I can just find any place to sit."
How could she dare to go over? At this moment, in her eyes, Leng Youchen seemed like a lurking wild beast. Once she sat down beside him, she couldn't be sure if she wouldn't be devoured to the bone.
She wouldn't be that foolish—to walk right into the tiger's den.
"Do you want me to come over and hold you?" The man squinted slightly, and with the rising white smoke, his squinting made him seem all the more wicked and dangerous.
Wei Anning was trembling with fear when she realized there were no servants around in the cabin, not even the butler who would usually keep close to his side. She was even more afraid now.
