The face in front of Fang Mu was the most exquisite and perfect face even an artist could not draw. Those tightly pursed lips suddenly curled up. Fang Yusheng smiled, but his smile wasn't one to make people feel happy. Instead, it gave them a sense of danger.
The elevator seemed to have become suffocating, and even the air seemed to be filled with uneasiness and coldness.
Fang Mu suddenly had a thought: This person is very dangerous.
Fang Yusheng's tone was flat and without any fluctuations. He said, "You owe me three things. A pair of eyes, a healthy stomach, and an immeasurable future." He looked calm as if he were talking about something unimportant.
Fang Mu's pupils shrank.
Fang Yusheng has always known the truth.
He has really been tolerant all these years.