His footsteps were quick, and Mr. Charles hurriedly hung up the phone and followed behind him.
Ji Chicheng's pace grew faster and faster as he walked directly to the car, bent down, and got inside.
Mr. Charles followed closely, got into the car, and looked at his icy face, asking, "Why are you suddenly angry again?"
"Are you spying on me?" Ji Chicheng turned his head to stare at Mr. Charles, his cold gaze and his very presence exuded an innate unruliness.
The accusatory tone left Mr. Charles momentarily stunned.
After a moment, he shook his head in denial, "Of course not, I'm concerned about you."
Saying this, he reached out, intending to pat Ji Chicheng's shoulder, but Ji Chicheng turned his head away indifferently, looking out the window.
Mr. Charles' hand stiffened in midair, then withdrew, and he soothed Ji Chicheng in an apologetic tone, "If you don't like it, I can make them stop coming. I'm just afraid you'll get hurt."
