What a Soft Fellow

So the overbearing President was no exception.

Yan Rusheng drove to Xuxu's work studio, and he stopped outside the entrance. He threw a glance at the bouquet lying behind his seat, and a blissful smile crept on his face.

He unfastened his seatbelt and opened his car door.

He was about to walk through the entrance when suddenly a white Land Rover sped past him. His face fell when he caught a glimpse of the owner.

The owner got off the car, and she was wearing a cropped black leather jacket, wine-red leather pants with studded knee-high boots. Her figure seemed elongated in that outfit.

She propped herself with a hand on her car. Next, she cooly took off her sunglasses as she flipped her short hair backward.

She happily beamed at Yan Rusheng and waved. "Hey, Third Young Master."

Yan Rusheng tightly furrowed his eyebrows, and disdain was clearly displayed on his face. "Why are you here?"