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Zhou Jingwei withdrew his gaze and dropped his eyes, his voice indifferent, "No."
Brief and to the point, it was a very straightforward refusal.
Zhao Hanchen wore a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he looked at him, his anger burning.
His temper had always been poor, and these days, with the departure of Cheng Weiyue, it had reached its limit.
He spoke, very coldly, "Zhou Jingwei, don't go too far."
"It's now four in the morning, who exactly is going too far?"
Zhou Jingwei's fingertips rested on the stair railing, lightly tapping it in a carefree manner; his movement paused, and he gave a polite smile, "Zhao Hanchen, I know what you want to say."
Zhao Hanchen's frown deepened, an unspoken understanding between them, rendering those words unnecessary to ask.
His gaze trembled, his voice gradually becoming hoarse, he slowly said, "Then what's your answer?"