Old Qin was drenched in cold sweat, bracing himself to stand up, with a smile on his face that was even uglier than crying, "Mr. Leng, I'm really sorry, I think there must be some misunderstanding here, my son shouldn't know your wife."
"Oh? Is that so?" Leng Yichen's tone gave no hint of his mood, as he intimately led Bai Yiran into the private room.
After watching Leng Yichen and Bai Yiran sit down, Old Qin, nodding and bowing, cautiously sat down again and picked up the napkin on the table, wiping the thin sweat from his forehead.
Young Master Qin's breathing became heavy, large beads of sweat rolled down his florid face.
From the moment Leng Yichen and Bai Yiran entered and sat down, Wu Lin had maintained the same standing posture as if she were about to leave. Now, everyone was seated, and only she remained standing, making her appear very out of place.
Leng Yichen's gaze skimmed over her quickly, not pausing for even a second, as if he didn't know her at all.
