She could tell he was unhappy, and she would go to great lengths to explain things to him, to make him understand. Yet, the items in his office, to her, were just as glaring, but he said nothing about them.
Wen Nuan frowned; this matter always lingered, inevitably leading to some resentment.
These things were like a tiny thorn. The thorn itself was small and didn't hurt much when it pricked you, but it was always there, ready to stab you at any moment and cause pain.
"Hmph, which eye saw me overthinking it? Looking at this exceptional specimen every day, you'd still think of Fang Liucheng?" Ye Feimo scoffed, full of self-admiration, and Wen Nuan's unhappiness vanished.
He truly was quite the "specimen."
Wen Nuan put down the photos. Ye Feimo suddenly grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap. Wen Nuan's face flushed. "What are you doing? This is my house."
