As he spoke, a dark glint flashed deep in the middle-aged man's eyes. He brushed past Qin Li, his expression serene. The people with him, however, glared at Qin Li with undisguised hatred, as if they wanted to devour him whole.
But unlike Cui Ying and her followers, while this group clearly despised Qin Li, not one of them made a single rash move.
Qin Li gave a slight smile, took a deep breath, and called out coolly to the middle-aged man's retreating back, "We'll see about that!"
"Fine!"
The middle-aged man stiffened for a moment but didn't turn around. He uttered that single word and led his people away without another glance.
Shangguan Shiyu saw that Qin Li's face was livid. She knew it wasn't because of the Cui family, but because of the exquisitely crafted, black-and-gold invitation in his hand.
He was gripping the invitation so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
"What's wrong?" Qin Suo noticed something was amiss and walked over, his expression full of concern.
