Based on past experiences, such a "hate iron for not becoming steel" tone typically was a privilege enjoyed solely by Qin Jingyi.
The wheel of fortune had turned. Qin Jingyi glanced sideways at Yan Xiaye, who hung her head in silence, looking downcast, and his heart bloomed with glee.
If it weren't for Old Mr. Qin standing there, unwilling to leave, he'd surely have thrown in a few more cutting remarks—ideally enraging her to death, erasing future trouble altogether.
Fortunately, his newly appointed ally didn't disappoint him.
Pushing away the bodyguards encircling him with force, Xu Zixu turned his sharp gaze toward Old Mr. Qin, his brows furrowed with suppressed rage and fury. "Old Mr. Qin! I know this is your house. Out of respect for you, I'll spare Yan Xiaye a bit of leeway today. But don't forget—this matter isn't over!"
Bitterness welled up within her. Yan Xiaye stood stiffly, feeling this scene play out like an uncanny déjà vu.
