Chapter 122: The Man, Evan Willow

She rose from the sofa, her legs slightly shaky as she stepped onto the floor, her figure a bit unsteady. Evan Willow really wanted to carry her upstairs directly, but he had to suppress that impulse.

Their status did not yet warrant such intimacy; he needed to exercise restraint.

Only after Amanda Smith's figure had disappeared at the stairway did Evan Willow retract his gaze.

The aged butler, carrying a pot of hot tea, came over slowly and handed it to him, speaking softly, "Young master, are you alright?"

Evan Willow took the tea, and after taking a gentle sip, he looked up at the butler's question, "Hmm?" he murmured, "What's wrong?"

"Your complexion..." the butler sighed softly, "looks very pale."

On hearing this, Evan touched his face and then, as if recalling something, he smiled, "Is that so."

His expression carried a hint of cold detachment, like thin ice on the verge of breaking, rendering his usually gentle features somewhat harsh.