"Who's spreading rumors about me?"
Before Ji Chicheng could do anything, a deep, magnetic male voice suddenly came from outside. The leisurely tone of the voice alone made one imagine just how elegant this person must be.
Ji Chicheng's steps halted, and his eyes turned to the door, where a face he detested came into view.
Charles, with a gentle smile, faced the cameras of the reporters, smiling warmly and generously.
He even waved playfully.
In stark contrast to Ji Chicheng's cold face, one an angel, the other a demon.
But faced with questions from reporters, Charles didn't answer even one, letting them take pictures for a while. His gaze then turned to the laptop Ji Jingfeng had brought in earlier.
After taking a glance, he looked at Ji Jingfeng with a smile, "I'm very curious as to why Mr. Ji has photos of my son's wedding."
Only Ji Jingfeng could feel how unsettling his smile was.
"What?"
"Son?"
"What on earth is going on?"
