Leng Yanbo's complexion was taut with displeasure. Seeing her in distress, he couldn't vent his frustration and sat there stewing silently. He had come all this way, expecting her to treat him better, but she was even colder than she had been in Beicheng.
Where had he lost out to that cripple?
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. He fished out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, lit up, and smoked in silence.
Wei Anning frowned but said nothing, turning her head to look out the window. She didn't know why, but when Leng Youchen smoked, she found him very attractive and charming; even the smell of nicotine seemed peculiarly pleasant.
But when someone else smoked, it felt as if the air had become stagnant.
She stood up, intending to return to her room, but the world spun, and stars danced before her eyes. She collapsed back onto the sofa, prompting the butler to exclaim in alarm, "Third Young Lady, what's wrong?"
