The bracelet, though not feminine, appeared somewhat cheap and did not align with Shang Yin's current status.
"Anything else?"
Shang Yin seemed to sense Qing Lei's gaze. He closed his palm over the bracelet, slightly tilted his head, and his dark, cold eyes revealed a hint of pressure.
Qing Lei immediately said respectfully, "Please instruct if you have any tasks, Young Master. I'll take my leave now."
The moonlight was bright, and the night lights were dim.
Shang Yin once again spread his fingers and gazed at the white crystal bracelet with a touch of age, a faint curve lifting on his thin lips.
In another month, he could return to his country.
...
The following day, Shang Yin arrived at the old house from Paibo Manor.
In the tea room, the nearly seventy-year-old Shang Zonghai steadily brewed and steeped tea, "Leaving the day after the graduation ceremony?"
"Yes, Grandpa."
