"Thank you for the compliment." Ye Ranran's red lips slightly curved, accepting his praise.
Her expression was indifferent, giving off an aura that kept others at a distance, clearly not wanting to engage in further conversation with him.
But Jun Mochan seemed oblivious, chatting with her sentence by sentence.
"I heard Miss Wen has not been well, confined to a sickbed for two years?" Jun Mochan asked nonchalantly.
Ye Ranran was slightly displeased: "Are you investigating me?"
"Just a guess." Jun Mochan swirled the red wine in his hand: "I also know you're ill and can't drink alcohol, right?"
He's the one who's sick, his whole family is sick.
Does that sound like something nice to say?
"Is that also a guess?" Ye Ranran sneered: "Why don't you just admit it, that you had someone investigate me."
"Upset? That means I guessed correctly." Jun Mochan became more certain of his assumption.
Ye Ranran didn't want to continue the conversation with him and stood up.
