She suddenly waved her hand, pushing his hand away coldly, "Who wants your fake kindness."
There was a long sigh in her ear, with a bit of heart-wrenching melancholy, he said, "I'm sorry."
Fan Weiying's anger instantly quelled, she looked coldly at the man in front of her. No matter how many times she looked, there was always a fleeting moment of amazement. Facing those melancholic, steady eyes, she suddenly felt a deep sense of powerlessness.
"No need to apologize, it's a fair trade."
The man's eyes flickered, finally turning into a pool of still, dead water, silently retracting the handkerchief: "Time is almost up, let's go down."
When Yun Ya arrived, she was very low-key, entering the banquet hall without attracting anyone's attention and sitting in a corner, where the shadows were deep, making it hard for others to notice.
She wanted to congratulate Fan Weiying in person and then leave as quietly as she had come.
