Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Yun Shishi frowned as she hit the human wall hard. She looked up and saw that everyone had suddenly fallen silent.
She was bewildered by this unexpected turn of event. She looked in the direction of Xiao Xue and He Lingxiang. The two had also stopped fighting and were standing rooted to the spot.
He Lingxiang had the most confounded and funniest expression. He was utterly shaken up, and his hands surreptitiously let go of Xiao Xue’s collar. His petrified gaze was fixated behind her.
The producer, who was standing next to him, wore the same petrified expression. They looked as if they had seen a ghost!
She composed herself and tried to regain her balance. While she was fumbling, a clean and fair hand appeared before her.
The silver cufflink on his suit pierced her sight as it reflected the sunlight.
This hand obviously belonged to a man, yet it was clean and fair. It looked well-maintained with candle-like fingers.
She lifted her face and was met with a pair of deep and penetrating almond-shaped eyes. Standing before her was a tall and handsome man. Although he looked young, only in his twenties, he had a mature and steady disposition. His aura was imposing and imperial.
Just from his presence, one could tell that he had braved many storms – a man with a cold nature.
It was not apathy but rather aloofness and detachment.
From where he stood, his high-and-mighty presence ubiquitously occupied every inch of the room.
A bevy of tall men in suits stood behind him. They were bowing slightly and respectfully in his shadow, much like an army saluting a general.
Mu Yazhe…
Yun Shishi was frozen stiff, while the nearby Xiao Xue was mesmerized.
The man bowed his head and silently extended his hand to her. He looked elegant in his black suit as the sun cast a soft and devilish shadow on his face.
The sun was glaring straight at her, so she could not directly look at him. Although she could only look at him partly, his exquisite features were apparent enough to melt her heart.
His sword-like eyebrows and angular silhouette seemed to hold the cold, harsh, and disdainful lineage of a European aristocrat, yet it also exuded the unique, elegant, and deeply demonic charm of an oriental man.
He was an undoubtedly handsome, young man, and this beauty was not merely superficial. He held the charisma of a king – high and mighty.
The row of men behind him was curious to see on who could possibly rouse their master’s attention to stop him in his path. They dropped their gazes, which felt like shots of darts, on to her. She struggled to right her footing, ignoring his outstretched hand.
The man saw the graceful and valiant look on her face and slowly retracted his hand. He was silent, his mouth deliberately cocking into an indiscernible arc.
