Suppressing the intense urge to curse at his ancestors, Song Yan took a deep breath, almost bursting into laughter.
She gave a cold glance at the hand he extended toward her and felt an urge to spit on it.
Turning her head away, she spoke in an odd tone, "I wouldn't dare soil Mr. Gu's hand. I don't have a handkerchief to offer Mr. Gu to clean his hands anymore."
Gu Chenxiao's frown was almost imperceptible.
What was she saying with that strange tone?
But he didn't ponder too deeply, looking down at Song Yan, who was kneeling on the ground, he bent over.
"Song Yan, if you want me to hold you, just say it directly. There's no need to beat around the bush like this."
A question mark slowly formed on Song Yan's face again.
What on earth is this jerk talking about?
Dodging his arms decisively, Song Yan glared at him with a wary expression, "Mr. Gu, speak if you want to speak, why are you getting handsy?"
Gu Chenxiao's arms tensed up.
