The owner of the Greenhill Mansion seemed to have a thousand questions for the young cost student to answer.
Zheng Qing wore a stiff smile on his face, trailing beside her as if guiding the guests. Meanwhile, he sharply sensed another gaze from a corner of the room, like a wispy chill from outside the house, swirling around the back of his neck, trickling down his collar, chilling the sweat-dampened skin of his back.
Su Shijun seemed to have noticed this 'chill' as well.
"Hmm? Your Monitor is heading this way."
