Young Master Mo's cold voice, tinged with questioning, suddenly sounded behind her. Yan Xinxin whirled around abruptly and saw the man returning from his morning exercise.
Dressed entirely in black, he exuded an aura of restraint and detached elegance.
Yan Xinxin felt inexplicably guilty and quickly withdrew her hand and stood up.
Looking at his now-empty palm, Sheng Yehan was silent for a moment before standing as well.
"Morning."
He greeted Mo Chuxi.
"You two talk, I'll just… huh?"
Yan Xinxin intended to leave, but as soon as she turned around, her small hand was caught by Mo Chuxi.
"What happened?"
He asked as he stared at her injured finger, his tone consistently indifferent.
"It's nothing, just a cut from glass."
Yan Xinxin replied and tried to pull her hand back, but Mo Chuxi showed no intention of letting go.
He furrowed his brows and then directly dragged her towards the bedroom.
"Hey, Mo Chuxi…"
Yan Xinxin muttered in confusion and frustration.
