"Ye Chenfeng?" Qiu Muran's eyes flashed a trace of coldness as she slightly parted her lips.
"Ah?"
At this moment, a million metaphorical wild horses were thundering through Ye Chenfeng's heart. Why was Qiu Muran dressed so sexily?
"Sit down quickly, Ranran!" Ye Chenfeng signalled to the waiter with a wink.
Understanding the cue, the waiter immediately pulled out a chair, politely ushering Nachu Muran to sit down.
"What would you like to drink, miss?" the waiter asked. He was feeling quite resentful internally—this guy with a seemingly tacky style had an overwhelming amount of romantic luck. The first beauty like an ice queen was eye-catching enough, and now here was another who matched the first in beauty.
"Thank you. I'll just have some brandy," Qiu Muran smiled and nodded at the waiter, whose experience in a French restaurant did little to calm him now. He seemed to freeze, spellbound by the natural charisma exuding from Qiu Muran.
"Huh? Where's my wife?"
