Steward Zhou smilingly placed the soup beside her hand, "Without you and the Young Master here, it almost feels like this place is just mine."
"He's been staying at my place."
Steward Zhou nodded, "Yes, I asked the Young Master, and he said, wherever Miss Tong is, that's his home..."
Tong Ran froze, her hand holding the soup paused. Mo Nanjue said something like that?
Steward Zhou was taken aback, and when he looked up, he saw Mo Nanjue standing with a gloomy face at the stairs.
Uh...
Steward Zhou raised a hand to cover his face, suddenly feeling like he was about to lose his job.
Mo Nanjue stepped down the stairs, walking steadily towards them. Steward Zhou stepped back a few paces, knowing all too well Mo Nanjue's temperament. He knew he had slipped up...
Mo Nanjue stopped in front of him.
Steward Zhou clutched the rag tightly, caught in a dilemma, "Young Master..."
The man narrowed his cold eyes, his aura almost terrifying Steward Zhou, "Did I ever say such a thing?"
