How is it? Have you taken a fancy to Huang Fu?

Wen Xiangyang found herself inexplicably drawn into a strange circle of emotions again, and her mood swung visibly in Mu Lingqian's eyes. He squinted, taking a step forward, and lifted her chin, forcing her gaze onto his face: "What, have you taken a fancy to Huang Fu? Wen Xiangyang, in front of me, you display such an expression towards another man..."

Wen Xiangyang blinked, suddenly finding the Mu Lingqian who had just uttered those words oddly endearing.

"Young Master Mu, is that man named Huang Fu? What does he do? Is he your friend? Why is he here? Do you have his contact information? Can you share it with me?"

In one breath, Wen Xiangyang asked a whole barrage of questions, each one deeper than the last, all about Huang Fu. This quickly turned Mu Lingqian's initially ugly expression frosty, as if he was the king of hell embodied.