Yan Xixi made an instant decision and immediately went downstairs. At the head of the stairs, she paused briefly. From a distance, she spotted a lady with slightly silvered hair seated on the sofa. Even from afar, Yan Xixi could feel an overwhelmingly powerful and distinctly lethal aura emanating from her.
This isn't good. This lethal aura is reminiscent of a war-torn era—a complete contrast to someone like Zhou Ting, a sheltered flower from a greenhouse.
Yan Xixi suddenly felt her palms grow warm, and a fine layer of cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
