He has always been like this—aloof, unreachable, towering above all.
"What do you want me to say?" Ye Ranran was about to burst out in anger, but as soon as the words escaped her lips, she suppressed the fury. After years of struggle, her mask was firmly in place.
Behaving like a shrew was a taboo in their world. Especially words spoken in anger—if seized upon and magnified—it could lead to consequences far worse than merely being summoned for tea.
"I don't understand what the Chief means. Could you offer some guidance?" Her tone swiftly returned to calmness.
Fu Rong observed her and realized that she truly was a dedicated secretary, so competent that he almost wanted to praise her.
Is she feeling wronged? But there's no trace of grievance in her expression. Resentful? Her gaze was as pure and tranquil as still water.
"Why don't you question me like last time?"
The last time, she held onto hope, thinking that by pressing him, he might concede—even if just a little.
