The room, where a pin drop could be heard, was filled with a strong smell of blood. Accompanying Wen Ya's shout, the sound of the hairdryer abruptly stopped.
All attention was on her daughter. Not until Wen Ya shouted did Zhao Yali realize that there were others in the room.
Wen Ya was in such a state of collapse that she lost her composure. How could she panic?
But at this point, is there still time?
Turning to look at the bathroom's glass door, feeling the silence outside in the room, Zhao Yali's heart raced wildly, the pounding reaching her ears like a numbing sensation.
"President Wen..."
Exuding an Asura-like aura of menace, Fu Mingyu's gaze was cold and severe, "Regarding today's matter, I think you owe me an explanation."
He wasn't even willing to call him "Uncle Wen" anymore. Now, with a "President Wen," Fu Mingyu's attitude was clear.
"Third Young Master..."
Wen Yiming stood up. The strong demeanor he had planned was impossible to maintain after Wen Ya's words.
