Quan Shifang stood in front of Ning Xiaoxian. As soon as the car door opened, he immediately locked eyes with Mr. Miluo.
These two men, one stood erect, the other lazily leaned; one bright and clear, the other exhibiting dragon and phoenix grace, both were rare handsome men. Bystanders who saw them, for some reason, all fell silent.
Quan Shifang, tall and slender, intentionally or unintentionally turned to one side, shielding Ning Xiaoxian behind him. Mr. Miluo's brow moved slightly, giving Quan Shifang a rather unfriendly look.
The two men faced each other, speechless for a moment, but it seemed like a turbulent undercurrent had begun to swirl in the air.
It seemed that neither of them liked the look in each other's eyes.
In the end, Mr. Miluo was the first to speak. Languidly reclining on the car's low table, he said, "Quan Shaohua, I am still unwell from my old illness, so I will not stand to greet you."
