The young man strode over.
The woman dressed as a secretary frowned slightly, clearly abandoning her plan to quietly leave with her group.
In the blink of an eye, the young man was already close.
Without a word, he pulled Shen You'an behind him. His lean but upright figure stood in front of Shen You'an, like a small mountain—not particularly tall but reassuring.
"Young Master, madam harbors no malice. She simply wishes to invite Shen for a meal to express her apologies…"
Liu Runxi's gaunt face remained as indifferent as ice, his gaze deep like a bottomless abyss, exuding an unfathomable chill.
The young master, as he presented himself to others, always embodied the elegance and refinement of a gentleman—polished to perfection.
But at this moment, he was like a sword drawn from its sheath, sharp-edged, radiating cold light.
A strangerhood that instilled fear.
