As soon as she approached, she could feel it.
Mu Yin's heart hitched slightly, strangely tense and in disarray.
"Second Young Master, Miss Tang has arrived," the servant knocked lightly and entered.
The man standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with his hands in his pockets, turning around with a poise as if a magnificent tree in the breeze, was indistinct in the face due to only one floor lamp being on beside him. But when his deep, dark pupils swept over her, they clearly became more indifferent, "Come in. Aunt Lan, you may leave."
"Yes, Second Young Master," the servant obediently left and closed the door behind.
"Miss Tang, please have a seat," Bo Fengheng walked over, extending his pampered and elegant palm towards the sofa, gesturing for her to sit.
He was polite and gentlemanly as if he were a different person, without fault, and even effortlessly conveyed his charm and exceptional demeanor.
