The young man with white hair stood under the hazy moonlight, the breeze lifting the hem of his garment to reveal the exquisite embroidery.
The moonlight blended with the night, yet it did nothing to conceal his handsome brows and dignified aura.
He stood facing the wind, deep and stalwart as a mountain.
On ordinary days, he followed Ye Wanlan, always wearing a hat and a mask, even his presence seemed entirely retracted, appearing very ordinary and unremarkable, like a true assistant.
It was the first time the director had faced Yan Tingfeng like this, and he unavoidably froze on the spot.
Looking at Yan Tingfeng's overly beautiful face, the young man was also stunned for a second, then sneered coldly, "I thought you were some capable person, but you're just a pretty-boy that came out of nowhere. What are you trying to puff yourself up at here?"
He had dealt with at least five or six such pretty-boys before, not even needing to use the fussier aspects of his Gu Art.