Qin Mo didn't answer; she just turned her face away. A faint scent of cold agarwood was still discernible at the tip of her nose—crisp and subtle, the exclusive aroma of this man.
Why had she become so familiar with his scent in such a short time?
The tips of her ears tinged slightly red, yet she stubbornly retorted, "How could I possibly be jealous?"
"Our relationship is merely contractual. Mr. Chu, I understand that men have physical needs, and I won't stop you from finding any woman, but Wen Qingqing... you really have poor taste."
Wen Qingqing didn't seem to be magnanimous at all, much too petty.
Maybe he liked that kind of woman.
Although her face was pretty, how could a man like Chu Yiqin not find a woman who was both beautiful and had a good figure?
The coldness around the man intensified suddenly, and his voice was as deep and chilling as ice, "Why should I go far when I have near at hand? Comparing Wen Qingqing to you, it seems you think you are superior."