Shen Yibei raised an eyebrow and looked at her, saying nothing.
"There's no connection between us. Don't you think you're worrying about too many things?"
Lan Ruowei kept her gaze lowered, sitting motionless, her voice colder than ever.
Shen Yibei put down his chopsticks and bowl. "Lan Ruowei, watch who you're talking to." His words were firm, laced with a hint of menace.
"Mr. Yi, I've always been fully aware of who I'm speaking to." Lan Ruowei glanced at the food before her, but she had lost her appetite entirely, the irony of her predicament cutting deep.
She truly had brought this upon herself. Why had she chosen to come to Xuancheng and provoke such a terrible demon?
"Fine. Very well." Shen Yibei stormed out, leaving only Lan Ruowei seated at the dining table.
Lan Ruowei shook her head. Shen Yibei's temper was far too erratic—it didn't take much for him to explode like a raging bull.
She sighed softly, stood up, and began clearing the table.
