"Hello, Li Mochan..."
Ye Jiuliang looked at the man's retreating figure in utter confusion. She hadn't offended him, had she?
What on earth was he angry about?
After getting into the car, Li Mochan rolled up the window, his features exuding a cold aura.
Ye Jiuliang walked over and, seeing the tightly closed window, touched her nose. He really was angry.
She turned to look not far away; the two elders were deep in conversation, not paying any attention to them.
"Knock knock—"
The car window was tapped twice.
Li Mochan glanced sideways, a pale handprint marked the window.
Without guessing, he knew who it was.
After a long wait without the window being rolled down and the sun beating down hotly, Ye Jiuliang withdrew her hand and turned to leave.
Almost at the same time, the window rolled down.
The scorching sun was still unable to melt the frost in the man's eyes, and his chiseled features seemed encased in a layer of ice.
Hearing the noise, Ye Jiuliang turned back.