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"Hanxiang Building, Yu Lan?!"
Luo Kezhao's eyes widened in shock, his body freezing in place as a fine layer of cold sweat formed on his forehead.
Luo Peiyun glanced at his son with an expression that was pregnant with meaning.
"Yu Lan?"
Fang Zhixing's brows slightly furrowed, and he suddenly shuddered.
If he remembered correctly, the artist that Luo Kezhao had favored last night was named Yu Lan, quite a beauty with natural peachy cheeks and a face that was easy on the eyes.
Luo Qianqian turned her head and cast a surprised look at Luo Kezhao, exclaiming, "Isn't Yu Lan the performer you fancied? You even wanted to buy her freedom, keep her, and take her as a concubine!"
Luo Kezhao's mouth went dry; shaking his head, he said, "It can't be her, she absolutely can't be a spy. She's so sweet and compliant, how could she possibly be colluding with the rebels?"
Luo Peiyun asked indifferently, hands behind his back, "What if she were a spy?"
"This..."
