"Speak up, there's no one else here now. Why did you hit someone just now?"
Looking at Yan Qingcheng's classically decorated office, Lin Zifeng couldn't help but praise it twice.
Indeed, the treatment for a beauty is different, much higher than that of an average teacher.
The books on the bookshelf probably all belong to some ancient poet, I'd bet.
And looking at those antiques on the shelf, one has to say that there isn't a single ordinary item in Yan Qingcheng's office.
I wonder how Yunhai University dared to spend so much to turn this antique room into Yan Qingcheng's office.
Without some strong backing behind her, she probably couldn't have gotten such treatment out of fear.
"I didn't hit him, he fell on his own," Lin Zifeng stubbornly insisted, since everyone said it was a self-fall, why should he admit to hitting someone?