Even the air around them suddenly turned colder.
Everyone was petrified, and the room quieted down instantly, with nobody daring to breathe too loudly.
Only Mu Yin held her head high, defiance and sarcasm writ large as she locked eyes with him.
Bo Fengheng raised his hand, gently pinching her chin, seemingly nonchalant, "You think this is fun?"
But the pain from her chin made Mu Yin understand that he was warning her to take a hint and back off.
A tremor ran through Mu Yin's heart, quickly replaced by surging anger and an almost uncontrollable bitterness and resentment.
She turned her head away indifferently, pushing his hand aside, her lips curving into a faint sneer, "Mr. Bo, do you think I'm joking?"
"Tang Qingyue!" Bo Fengheng's frosty pupils tightened slightly, suppressing his anger, he snapped in a low voice.
