In the pavilion with the white dome, Ye Anqi sat opposite Ye Rumeng.
Ye Rumeng leaned back in her wheelchair, her gaze dim and lifeless, a bandage wrapped around her head, which added a kind of morbid beauty to her.
Ye Anqi had been staring at her for two minutes, "Not bad acting."
"..." Ye Rumeng showed no reaction.
"Trying to get Ya Shitian to send you home by faking illness?"
"..."
"I know you're faking it, there's no one else here, you don't need to play act."
"..."
Ye Anqi raised an eyebrow, "Let's talk."
"..." Ye Rumeng still did not react.
Ye Anqi leaned back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and lazily crossed a leg, "Maybe I could suggest to Ya Shitian to let you stay here for good and recuperate. You had an accident here, I think he'd be willing to take responsibility for you for life."
"..."
"In front of him, what I say should carry some weight, right?"
