Xiang Yiran's voice trembled: "Yancheng, you're back? I'll go make you a cup of tea—"
Bao Yancheng's voice was as cold as a blade's edge: "No need, I'm short on time."
This man did not issue commands, yet Xiang Yiran had no choice but to comply.
She hadn't seen such cold and guarded Bao Yancheng in a very long time.
So long that she almost forgot what a terrifying man he was capable of being.
Xiang Yiran's body was so tense it became stiff, yet she controlled her steps, seemingly calm as she sat down in front of Bao Yancheng.
The man crossed his legs, his distinctively knuckled hands clasped on his legs, looking completely at ease, yet Xiang Yiran dared not look him in the eye.
Bao Yancheng seemed unwilling to waste even a moment, getting straight to the point.
"Xiang Yiran, it was Bao Yuan who told you to impersonate Wen Wanzi's identity and come to my side, right?"