The sharp voice was all too familiar; it was Yang Fei.
Yang Yuran paused in her steps, facing the annex building with a mocking smile on her lips. The wheel of fortune turns quickly indeed, recently it had stopped at Bai Yan's residence.
"Miss, please follow me to the pavilion, the prepared delicacies will lose their flavor if they sit for too long,"
The old butler bent over, obsequiously standing by her side, gesturing an invitation.
Yang Yuran, with her nose in the air, disdainfully glanced at the person beside her whose back was bent at a ninety-degree angle, and coldly asked, "Isn't it supposed to be that the dishes are served only after I arrive?"
