In the study, Leng Youchen sat in his wheelchair. He lit a cigarette and took a drag, slowly exhaling white rings of smoke. His appearance was elegant and poised, but his brows were incredibly sharp.
Standing opposite him was Rong Ling, whose face grew increasingly solemn in the eerily quiet and terrifying atmosphere. The Third Young Master was angry.
Rong Ling pursed his thin lips, still voicing his disapproval stubbornly, "Third Young Master, that kind of woman harmed you once and will harm you a second time, you…"
His words were cut off by a fierce gust of wind sweeping past his cheek, and a loud "bang" sounded behind him as a crystal ashtray grazed his cheek and shattered on the floor, breaking into pieces.
Rong Ling's heart skipped a beat, ignoring the stinging pain on his cheek, he knelt straight down, "Third Young Master, please calm your anger."
