Ran Yan gave him a cold glance, "Let go of me."
Qin Musheng had been pampered since childhood, accustomed to having things his way, and could least tolerate being wrongly accused. At this moment, he was merely eager to find an ally; taking advantage was secondary. Reminded by Ran Yan, he sheepishly released his hold.
Although Ran Yan had not given him face, he always had infinite tolerance and magnanimity towards beautiful women.
"Nephew Qin, you said you saw a maid, but did you see her face clearly?" A middle-aged man in his forties parted the crowd and approached Qin Musheng. With a thin, clean-shaven jaw and a neatly trimmed beard, dressed in a broad-sleeved robe, he appeared quite distinguished. Ran Yan recognized him as the head of the Yin Family, Yin Wenshu.
Qin Musheng thought for a moment, then shook his head, "I only saw a fleeting back figure, and did not see her face."
"Oh? Then, was there anyone with you at the time, Nephew Qin?" Yin Wenshu asked.
