The moment he spoke, the harmonious atmosphere in the room suddenly fell into a strange silence.
Jiang Qingli felt Xie Youchen turn his head to glance at her. The pressure was suddenly immense, and she quickly denied it. "Marshal Sun, you've misunderstood. Que Feiling and I are just friends."
Hearing the word "friends," Xie Youchen seemed to recall something and silently curled his lip.
The young man lifted his gaze, his voice deepening slightly. "Marshal Sun, you've misunderstood."
His gaze never moved, but under the table, his hand found Jiang Qingli's with pinpoint accuracy. He slid his fingers between hers, intertwining them, then pulled her hand onto his lap.
At that distance, they would be discovered if anyone so much as glanced their way.
Jiang Qingli couldn't help but grow tense and tried to pull her hand back.
But Xie Youchen's movements were gentle yet restraining, giving her no chance to pull away.
