Li Beicheng's expression became even darker. Just as he was about to say something, Little Yunduo blinked her eyes in confusion and then looked back the way they had come, her voice full of milky innocence, "Why can't we talk about it in front of Daddy? Daddy has already heard it."
As soon as these words were spoken, Yan Xiaye almost gasped for air on the spot.
Her neck stiffened as she slowly turned her head, her gaze sweeping past the blooming garden, landing on the man's tall and elegant figure.
Beside a rose trellis, Li Yuntang looked over with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, idly twirling a pink rose between his fingertips. The graceful flower stem complemented his long fingers, and his dark pupils were as deep as an abyss, so beautiful under the setting sun they seemed almost unreal.
She had no idea how long he had been there, his handsome face impassive, his emotions indistinguishable.
