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Tingqiyun Mansion, guest bedroom on the third floor.

There was the sound of rain pattering outside the door, and the humid air was blocked from the window sill.

The huge floor-to-ceiling windows were wet.

The man held a wet towel in his hand and wiped his phalanges.

Each finger bone and the seams between the fingers were wiped. The slender finger bones were white and perfect, and there were slightly raised veins on the back of the hand.

Song Ci was wearing a nightgown. Except for some creases and wrinkles, she didn't look at all embarrassed.

A glass of water was handed to Song Ci.

Song Ci took the back of the man's hand and moistened her mouth.

At this time, Song Ci was sitting on the bay window.

Because the bay window was too cold, the man put a few pieces of paper under her body.

——It was the contract he just handed her.

She said she didn't need it.

The call had been hung up, and her cell phone was thrown on the sofa. The screen lit up several times and kept vibrating.

It was a message from Fang Yuzhi.

Without looking at the phone, Zhu Yanzheng looked at her sitting in front of the bay window, a little relieved, and slowly said: "Think it over carefully. Lin Jian can re-draw the contract at any time if he changes his mind."

He seemed almost obsessed with giving those shares and property to her.

Song Ci moved her eyes, but she just lowered her head and said nothing.

"I'm free these days," Zhu Yanzheng said calmly, "Let's pick the venue for the engagement banquet together."

"Go to bed early."

After saying that, Zhu Yanzheng turned and left.

The thunderstorm outside was deafening.

Lightning pierced the lonely night sky, and the cold light shone on Song Ci.

Looking at Zhu Yanzheng's leaving figure, Song Ci narrowed her eyes slightly.

She discovered that she actually didn't understand Zhu Yanzheng well enough.

——His "anger" seems to be a bit excessive.

Pursing her lips slightly, Song Ci's eyes flashed with deep meaning.

Zhu Yanzheng was having a cold war with Song Ci.

It seems inaccurate to say a cold war, because apart from not chatting and calling Song Ci as frequently as before, the two of them commuted to and from get off work together, ate together, and even went home together, which was no different from usual times.

But even Lin Jian noticed something was wrong with the atmosphere between the two.

In the driver's seat, Lin Jian glanced at the back of the car through the rearview mirror.

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