What kind of eyes were those?
The usual gentleness was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a fierce and venomous glare that sent a chill down one's spine. He sat in his wheelchair, tall and proud like a pine or cypress, his arrogant demeanor displaying his dominance and authority.
He didn't look at her, or rather, sparing her a glance would soil his eyes. His cold, thin lips parted slightly, "Ande, take the Third Young Lady back to her room!"
Wei Anning looked at the black-suited bodyguards holding guns behind Leng Youchen, her heart sinking with despair. Under such circumstances, it was impossible for him to let her leave, yet she refused to reconcile with merely brushing past her world.
"Leng Youchen, I've said before, I am not..."
"Ande!" Leng Youchen interrupted her coldly, without sparing her even a peripheral glance, "Take the Third Young Lady back to her room, and do not make me say it a third time!"
