Mu Qian's face was expressionless, his eyes icy to the extreme, giving no hint of his anger.
But Wen Jiaren felt a surge of roaring anger, her steps unconsciously retreating. She knew he had heard her conversation with Ji Qing.
Mu Qian just stood there silently, his unfathomable dark eyes fixed on her relentlessly, cold and distant, devoid of any emotion, as if he had returned to the unreachable aloofness he exhibited when they had first met.
"How did you get here?"
Under his gaze, Wen Jiaren's lips trembled, and cold sweat began to form on her forehead.
Mu Qian did not answer her, his sharp gaze sweeping her room before landing back on her face, remaining silent, his eyes piercing hers like those of an eagle.
The atmosphere was very oppressive, as if a huge rock were pressing on her chest.
Wen Jiaren clenched her hands tightly, forced a stiff smile, and asked, "Have you had dinner yet?"
