He had no time to marvel at the person's appearance before he saw the other half of his face.
A silver mask, intricately carved with complex patterns, concealed his left cheek, revealing only the area below his nose. Beneath the mask, his gaze was cold, dark, and mysterious, imparting an intangible sense of oppression.
An Ji narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of inquisitiveness flashing within them.
The man curved his attractive, thin lips upward, took a step forward, and extended a hand with distinct veins, offering a shallow smile, "I am Xingtian, Mr. An, pleased to meet you."
An Ji stared at him for two seconds before grasping his hand, "Mr. Xing, pleased to meet you."
————
After she stopped taking care of Tang Yuchen at the hospital, An Ruo returned to her normal life and went to work on time every day.
That day, not long after she arrived at the studio, she received a bundle of red roses, exactly eleven of them.
Wen Jing playfully asked her who had sent them.
